


Deck of Dragons

by Selitos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Demon Keith (Voltron), Demon Summoning, Demonic Possession, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hallucinations, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Shklance may not be warranted, Threesome, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:18:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selitos/pseuds/Selitos
Summary: Shiro was an officer in the Kerberos Garrison, tasked with containing the demons spreading from the town of Arus. At the height of his career, he had bound three incorporeal demons to harness their abilities. After losing his arm in a mysterious accident, he takes a dangerous gamble to make himself whole again: he summons an unknown demon directly to the material plane.He didn't expect a Galra. He didn't expect Keith.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Summoned a Demon 101: an In-comprehensive guide to Corporeal Demon Do's and Don'ts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11362569) by [EAter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EAter/pseuds/EAter). 
  * Inspired by [Midnight on the Demon Patrol](https://archiveofourown.org/works/625941) by [Asuka Kureru (Askerian)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Askerian/pseuds/Asuka%20Kureru). 



> Firstly, this work is inspired by the two fics above. Please read those works first. They're much better than anything I could write, already have dozens of chapters, and both are illustrated. I've stolen the Demon Summoner/Rider trope from these fics. 
> 
> Seriously, please read the inspiration.
> 
> Will also take lore inspiration from Steven Erikson's Malazan Book of the Fallen in later chapters.

Shiro sat restlessly in his home. His gaze and mind wandered, but he rarely focused on what he saw or thought. The supple leather of his couch and the wide, shuttered windows across the room went unappreciated. The television dominated an impressive amount of wall to his right, but it was long dark and received little notice. Shiro’s eyes did linger on the oak of his front door and the carpet softening the stairs. The Garrison officer (ex-Garrison officer?) couldn’t be blamed for his preoccupation with these, as they offered an easy escape from his rather risky intentions.

If Shiro had human company, the astute might have taken note of where Shiro’s eyes  _ didn’t  _ wander.

The first was the void that replaced his right arm. Staring at the tied-up sleeve only brought the man to low places, so Pidge nudged Shiro’s eyes away with an ease that spoke of long habit. Over the last few months, the Aspirant of Mind had nearly worn itself ragged dulling Shiro’s more dangerous thoughts towards his injury. Much easier to draw his attention elsewhere, even if the Olkari couldn’t tempt Shiro to read the stacks of technical manuals on the table. Eh, it would be rude for the demon to insist on its price tonight.

The second avoided place was more intriguing. He didn’t have any unwanted guests in the kitchen. The events that took his arm hadn’t occurred there. From this angle, Shiro could see little more than the broad, smooth floor. While immaterial to most, this kitchen floor was the main reason the Kerberos Garrison had allocated the place to Shiro. Their highest rank Summoner in Arus needed a good place to, well, summon. The low-stakes gambits of mere Sensitives might fit a garage, but concrete was treacherous and prone to cracking. Summoners needed a more reliable surface. The circle that now occupied Shiro’s kitchen wasn’t any he had drawn before. Tonight, he didn’t plan to question a passing, avaricious spirit for information or seek a new Rider. This circle offered Shiro a chance to get his life back.

With a sigh, Shiro turned his thoughts inward. A moment’s focus cleared his mind enough for three other intelligences to crowd into the Summoner’s head.  _ Alright team, last chance to give me a better idea. _

Pidge answered promptly. Of course, the Olkari was so firmly ensconced in his psyche that they probably felt the gist of any thought before Shiro became aware of it. He rarely even felt the most obvious signs of their presence, which really should bother him more.  _ Sorry Shiro. I could help craft a great prosthetic. But you’d still need another Olkari to power it. You’d have to find a pretty low caste one to take that job willingly, which means aggravating power limitations. And it would still be a prosthetic, not a real arm. _

A soft warmth kindled behind Shiro’s sternum.  _ Maybe I could animate some stone? I could help you  _ feel  _ that.  _ The Balmeran’s voice was uncertain.  _ I mean, the arm wouldn’t move if I wasn’t Riding. The weight would be a problem too, so we’d need a breakaway harness in case you couldn’t sustain the spell and... _

_ Shut it Hunk, you’ve said enough.  _ Typical of Shiro’s last Rider to wait until he could criticize. He shivered as gelid scales rose from his skin.  _ You can’t help, so leave this to the demons that can. _

_ Lance, quiet.  _ The officer subconsciously pulled up some fragments of the Mer demon’s Name to chasten him.  _ Unless you’ve got an idea.  _ Despite his best efforts, Shiro’s thoughts turned plaintive.

_ Yes, cap’n.  _ The Mer’s voice was seemingly contrite but turned lascivious with a speed only Lance could attain.  _ I can’t help you get an arm, but I could help with getting you that third leg.  _ This time Shiro kept better control and his sigh was purely external. He bartered with a Jester of Lust; Shiro supposed he deserved this. Best get it over before he lost his nerve entirely.

_ Fine, let's do this.  _ Shiro still had to focus on his balance as he rose. The physical therapy had gone poorly. He turned to the two circles on the floor. The outer was twined iron and silver, a permanent barrier that no demon could cross without help. He hadn’t bothered with two inner painted circles, only one tonight. Normally, the innermost layer was for the demon, the second for the lead Summoner, and the outermost for any observers or allies. Shiro didn’t have those tonight.  _ Lance, Hunk, check your wards. Again. Alert me to any flaws. _ Threading an ounce of will into the command ensured it would be followed. He wasn’t that worried. Shiro had done his research and the theory was sound.  _ Pidge, look over the sigils. The contract has to last a while.  _ After a chorus of affirmatives, Shiro turned his eyes to objects he had laid inside the circle. Bowls of wax and water. Piles of dusted charcoal and silver. Bone and hair of cat. He hadn’t killed the cat, of course. But he still chafed at bribing a vet tech for the remains. Shiro drew Pidge to the front of his mind.  _ Are you sure this is enough material? It’s twenty kilos at most. _

_ Yes, for the thousandth time And it’s closer to ten. They’re just templates to get him started. Quintessence will do the rest.  _ Your  _ quintessence. _

Shiro stepped past the static outer circle and knelt before his nerve could fail him. He dropped a hand, his  _ only _ hand, to one of the knives at his belt. A practiced motion exposed a length of blade and slid a fingertip along the silver edge. Shiro pressed his bloody digit to a specific spot on the warding. With a moment’s concentration, the Summoner infused the circle with quintessence and opened his Third Eye to make sure the warding was sound. Satisfied, he leaned back to wait. Arus was swimming with unembodied demons looking for deals and victims, but Shiro needed something different. This ceremony called for a demon to be pulled directly through the Veil from the far reaches of the Abyss.

That was dangerous. He couldn’t know what kind of demon he would get or do much to tailor the summoning towards a useful Class or Aspect. But Shiro needed a creature untainted by time on the material plane. It couldn’t become accustomed to this static world. Couldn’t become aware of the impossibility of the task before it.

Roughly an hour passed before Pidge nudged his mind to wakefulness. He reached behind to temporarily break the circle. It felt like stretching an atrophied muscle, but Shiro pushed his Riders entirely from his body. This was something they couldn’t help with. Worse, even the most benevolent demons would be tempted to twist the summoning.

He drew his silver knife as he watched the demon fill the circle. Shiro hoped he wouldn’t need his other blade. Using the iron dagger would mean the ritual was unsalvageable. With his Third Eye open, he still couldn’t glean much information about the demon. Incorporeal, it resembled a pillar of shadows with a spread of lighter patches where a face might be. These patches soon settled to a vague impression of a mouth and eyes. Eyes without pupils that somehow settled onto Shiro’s.

He couldn’t show any fear now, he had to press forward. “Can you read the sigils, see the contract’s ter-”

The demon broke into a hissing sound that conveyed incomprehensible, inchoate rage. Drawing on his Garrison training, Shiro’s reaction was nothing more than a curious tilt of his head. This was good news. If the demon had spoken this early or shown understanding, it would have indicated a recent stint on the material plane. Awkwardly, Shiro raised his silver dagger to his shoulder. He cut a deeper wound, filling a small well running down the blade’s center. The Summoner tilted the knife to roll the beads of red up and down. Silver acted as a conduit, which Shiro used to impart knowledge, intention, and power into his blood. Mindful of the edge of the circle, he flicked a single drop to the demon. Beginning from where the blood landed, the shadows pulsed darker, nearly black before a purple wave settled the demon’s form. Shiro clenched his fist as a channel flickered to life between him and the demon. It allowed the spirit to reach into his mind past the warding. Blistering, searing fury buffeted the Summoner as the demon tried to overpower him. He let the foreign emotion splash uselessly against mental barriers crafted from years of training. The room blurred as hallucinations distorted his senses. Shiro drew hard on his inner pool of quintessence and banished the demon back to the circle.

The creature turned and its eyes blurred as they raced along the complicated sigils, before whirling again to read the wards defining the inner circle. It took a moment for Shiro to realize that he’d lost the demon’s focus. Its eyes were locked onto a patch of wards. A place where Hunk’s blockish pictograms met Lance’s whorling script.

_ Shit.  _ Shiro tensed his legs but didn’t move. Fear now would weaken the contract, even if it was signed. Scrambling past the outer circle would mean Shiro didn’t trust his work, his control. And if Shiro didn’t, why should the demon respect the contract? Fear would be an invitation to flaunt the spirit of the deal more than most demons already did.

When the smoke lashed to the circle’s edge, Shiro didn’t twitch. The wards flashed strongly and the demon yowled like a burned cat. A second time, a third time, it tested Shiro’s wards in different places. All places where it might find a crack through. Now the officer tensed anew. Three was the proper number of times to attempt an escape. Any more meant this denizen of the Abyss would be completely unmanageable.

Shiro released a sigh of relief when the demon quieted. He flicked another drop of blood to the demon. The first was to impart language and understanding of the contract. More was unnecessary, but blood is power. Blood of a Summoner is nearly raw quintessence, addictive to demons. Shiro sent another pair of drops flying in quick succession. With each impact, the demons shadows darked and its eyes lightened. The figure moved hungrily towards Shiro. “Do you accept the terms? A chance to reside on this plane, in a body of your own making? More quintessence than you’ve ever known. Given in blood and-” Shiro’s voice faltered here. “Paid in blood and more. In return for service until the appointed time for reneg-”

_ Yes, manling. I see the contract. You wish to be more than half a man. Like a dog you wish a chance to  _ serve  _ again.  _ Shiro felt the antagonism behind the words that prowled through his mind. Worse than even Lance had offered at their meeting. Again he tensed, a third insult would mean refusal, or too much recalcitrance to bear. The hinting of eyes bored into Shiro.  _ Yes, let it be sealed in blood, with more to come. Three times I agree. _

Shiro nodded solemnly. “Then you must grant me your name, your true Name, with all your understanding of its meaning.” With an ethereal grace, the column of shadows drifted forward until it met the edge of the circle in a crackle of magic.The gash that might be a mouth moved, but Shiro did not hear syllables. Instead, he was suffused with the sensation of claws testing his skin, the acrid smoke of cold iron burning, heard a struck-glass ringing that sang of brittleness.

The Summoner held as much of the Name within him as he could. With a cry and flash of silver, he slashed at the end of his injured arm and pushed it past the edge of the circle. When the demon’s gash opened, Shiro saw a horror made from the jagged ends of shattered cat bones. He didn’t have a chance to scream before that maw engulfed his arm to the shoulder, beyond the edge of the wards. He did find time to scream after, before shock and blackness took him.

When Shiro awoke, lambent yellow eyes watched him from across the circle. Yellow eyes that an Aspirant of Mind couldn’t wholly keep from his nightmares. Shiro started, and rolled to all-fours. He didn’t hear sibilant words in his mind, but a deeper voice that was carried by trembling air. “It’s time to feed me, manling. You swore.”

_ Fuck!  _ “You-you’re Galra!” Shiro’s hand darted to his iron blade. The demon’s gaze followed it. The eyes narrowed.

“Our contract made no mention of my species, you quiznaking child,” the demon bit off the last word with a clacking of fangs. Past tense,  _ contract made.  _ Breaking a contract was dangerous at the best of times, and suicidal with a corporeal demon. The creature was sitting on its haunches against the edge of the circle, back supported by a web of magic. “Have you met one of my brothers? Were they the ones that made room for my masterpiece?” purred the demon.

With a start, Shiro realized he had one hand to his dagger, and  _ another resting on the floor.  _ The first thing he noticed was how humanoid the arm was. The contract had stipulated this point, but part of him had worried he would get some tentacled monstrosity. One bend at the elbow, four fingers and a thumb. It was paler than the amber hue of Shiro’s other arm, and had a violet undertone. The ulna seemed to extend a few inches past the elbow. While the color of the protrusion didn’t change, the texture did. Shiro felt at the sharp point; it felt like bone or horn. The barest of pressure was needed to pierce the pad of his finger. At the sight of fresh blood, the lavender demon made a low growl of hunger. It edged forward onto the balls of its feet.

“Stop!” Shiro threw his new arm up to shape a forbidding, and marvelled at the claws that slid from his fingertips. Once the adrenaline passed, the claws slowly retracted into his fingers. They didn’t swivel on a point like a cat’s, they shifted laterally as if they were a switchblade. The claws had seemed longer than each finger’s first knuckle could accommodate. Shiro must have voiced this observation, as the demon responded.

Lance would have been jealous of the derisive laugh the demon levied at the officer. “Your arm was crafted from quintessence. Why leave it inert and mundane like the rest of your horrid flesh?” The demon’s attention never wavered from the red dripping from the officer’s left hand. “Do you intend to renege on our arrangement?” Ten claws sliding from their sheaths accentuated the question.

Shiro swallowed before answering, “I will keep the pact. But-no, a Galra attack didn’t take my arm.” Shiro shook his head and tried to explain the injury and found he couldn’t. He grew dizzy and slumped to his side. His fall was interrupted by the circle when his Galran arm met the wards. Shiro marvelled at the glowing skein of magic before noticing the slight tingling feeling.  _ Of course, the wards are draining the arm to resist my fall.  _ He moved away from the circle’s edge. As Shiro processed this, he turned and truly saw the demon for the first time. Height was difficult to judge with it crouching, but it looked shorter than Shiro’s tall frame. Most of its body was covered in a dusting of lavender fur. Its- his features were fine, but decidedly masculine. If Shiro ignored the purple velvet and yellow sclera, the face was nearly human.  _ Not unattract- oh fuck!  _ , Shiro’s musings were interrupted by a baring of very-not-human fangs. Wide, bat-like ears extended from each side of the demon’s head and unruly black hair cascaded to his neck. Bone or chitinous plates covered portions of the extremities, like the shins or outer arms.The demon’s feet were elongated so only the pads met the floor. As Shiro’s gaze travelled lower, he noticed a thicker patch of fur at the demon’s crotch, but no obvious genitalia. A satisfied hiss snapped Shiro from his inspection.

“Like what you see, pervert? Shall my first meal be carnal instead of sanguine?” drawed the demon. Without waiting for an answer, he rose smoothly to his feet and stalked forward.

“Um, no-no, blood is fine!” Shiro stammered. “Wait, what should I call you?” he asked, attempting to stall. Early on, he’d fed his Riders with blood and sex- well, usually masturbation. Those were the easiest ways to feed a demon. But that was a mostly-private affair. They each had different requirements to make the act fit their needs, but there wasn’t any other person in the room. And each demon bound to Shiro had already given him their Price, so he hadn't needed to use the staples in a long time.

“You have my Name, the mewls your kind push into the air matter little.” The demons slow slink forward hadn’t slowed.

“I can’t just call you ‘demon’ all the time! Please, you’ve got my knowledge of English, pick a name,” Shiro pleaded. He drew as lightly as he could on the creature’s Name, aiming for a subtle, even imperceptible compulsion. Alas, the demon noticed. And reacted. Poorly.

“ _ You dare!  _ You  _ debase  _ the shape of my  _ soul  _ to compel me to choose some banal string of consonants?” shrieked the purple figure. Shiro saw a flash of claws as the demon slashed at the circle impotently. By the time the demon tired, the officer could smell burning iron and saw the creature’s claws were incandescent with heat. “Fine, if your pathetic anthropocentrism requires it.” The demon shifted his weight from foot to foot, before grumbling out, “Keith.” He glowered at Shiro, daring the human to mock him.

Shiro wasn’t that foolish. He accepted the name as if it were a princely gift. He didn't comment on the name belonging to his high school boyfriend. “Thank you, Keith,” Shiro nodded. He motioned to his new right arm. “I don’t suppose you could feed from...,” the question was left unfinished.

Keith snorted indelicately. “You might as well try to hydrate drinking your own waste. I need  _ human  _ blood. That arm was crafted by the same process that fashioned my body. It’s more demon than human, and tinged with my own quintessence,” added Keith with an afterthought and wrinkling of his nose.  _ Damn, that shouldn’t be cute  _ , thought Shiro. “Better yet, it’d be like trying to satiate yourself eating your own child’s flesh.”

With conscious effort, Shiro broke the inner circle. “Fine, you have my permission to feed elsewhere-,” the officer didn’t get to finish. Keith was a blur as he leapt to the human, pressing him to the edge of the outer circle. Again, Shiro was trapped by his demonic arm. Keith’s mouth came up to Shiro’s neck, and he took full advantage. The taller man shuddered as a tongue laved across his throat and an alien body writhed against him. He felt those lips and tongue follow his blood’s pulse. A slender thigh shoved Shiro’s legs apart and pressed one of those hard plates upwards. Shiro threw his head back and groaned as he realized he was answering that hardness with his own. As the demon’s mouth dropped to his collarbone and moved sharp claws to his torso, Shiro risked a glance doward. This proved to be a mistake for three reasons.

Firstly, the  _ sight  _ of Keith attacking Shiro’s body ruined any chance he had at controlling himself. The firm ass he saw rivalled his ex’s, and Matt had a damn fine ass. He began to buck his hips, trying to move his cock so that it wasn’t trapped pointing downward.

Secondly, the officer’s movements telegraphed clearly how much he was enjoying this. They prompted Keith to move a hand to Shiro’s hardness, massaging it through his pants. Somehow, the demon managed to shift his cock sideways, finally allowing it to reach full mast. Shiro gasped anew as his foreskin rolled back, exposing his sensitive head to the rough cotton of his underwear.

Thirdly, the glance down meant that as the demon moved his lips to Shiro’s jaw, the taller man was greeted with a full-bore stare of those lambent yellow eyes. “Are you trying to  _ spoil  _ me, Summoner?’ Keith mumbled as he moved back to Shiro’s neck. “Will you feed me twice tonight?” the demon asked before Shiro felt teeth at his skin.

Those glowing eyes met Shiro’s own again. That gaze, those teeth and claws, all digging into the Summoner made him delirious. As the palm at his cock pressed harder, he realized the finish was a foregone conclusion. Shiro let out a moaned, “ _ yes!”  _ , and surrendered to the sensations. Keith gave a satisfied huff and started purring, the vibrations going straight to man’s cock. When the demon found a place at his neck to bite, Shiro lost himself. The stress of the last few months, the relief over getting his arm back, his inexplicable fear of the Galra, and the pleasure and pain Keith brought him all poured out in a shattering orgasm. As Shiro bucked uncontrollably, the demon kept him still and moved his tongue wetly over the bite. Together, the two slid to the floor, Keith unwilling to lose his hold on Shiro’s neck and purring the entire slow fall. It took far too long for Shiro to come back to himself, but the wet spot in his underwear eventually lost its appeal. With weak hands,  _ two hands again!  _ , the Summoner pushed the demon away. Keith made a sound of protest, but moved back with a glint in his eye. The Galra gave Shiro a bloody, satisfied gin.

Then he spat a mouthful of blood at the circle’s base, and vanished in a scraping of claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you have anything to say. This is the only thing I've posted that will have a decent plot.
> 
> Here's a lovely illustration by EAter. Thanks again for this!
> 
> https://34t3r.tumblr.com/post/174780904511/like-what-you-see-pervert-shall-my-first-meal


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As his Riders comment on the ritual's conclusion, Shiro and Keith try to take each other's measure.

With the circle broken, Shiro fell backwards to the ground. His head bounced off the kitchen's strange matte floor. “Don't leave the house! No property damage!” he shouted towards the doorway Keith had dashed through. Those conditions were stipulated in the contract, but it never hurt to reinforce them.

Shiro dropped the mental barriers keeping his Riders out. Unsurprisingly, Pidge was the first to return. All his demons had unique sensations associated with their presence, but Pidge's signs were the most familiar. Shiro calmed as green vines wove their way through his mind, turning to steel cables that thrummed with captured lightning. The Olkari quickly rifled through his memories of the summoning. When they reached the moment when Shiro had locked onto the Galra’s yellow eyes for the first time, Shiro felt their psychic shock. _You summoned a Galra!? Have you lost your damn mind? You_ know _what they’re capable of!_

Shiro sighed before slowly rising to a sitting position. _It’s done, Pidge. He was the demon to answer the call. I didn’t know he was Galra until we signed the contract. What could I have done then? At least now he’s Bound. One less danger seeking a more vulnerable host._

 _Boss, I still don’t like this. We knew the ritual could draw something unexpected, but a Galra? They’re the ones that started all this._ Shiro could feel the fear in their voice. He shrugged.

 _LIke I said, it’s done. And it worked!_ He ran his left hand over his new arm, reveling in the sensation. Shiro practiced drawing out its demonic attributes and hiding them. If he focused, he could suppress the claws and bone spur until the limb resembled a violet-tinted copy of his left. The Summoner held both arms up, trying to see if they were perfectly symmetrical.

_Well, at least there weren’t any egregious loopholes in the contract. Otherwise he wouldn't have made the arm, or performed so well. But how will the Garrison react to him? Summoning a corporeal demon was risky enough, but a Galra is unprecedented. Iverson could go nuclear._

_I’m still their best Summoner. Now that I’ve got my arm back, I’m as useful as I ever was. Plus, Keith agreed to the same terms you did: to aid the Garrison’s cause. They won’t throw that away._

_Or what about the public? Only an idiot would mistake him for just another Galra Shadow possessing some unlucky Vessel. Only their higher ranks permanently distort the human body that much._

_We planned for this. Some clothing, or identification. All we need is a chance to show he’s not a danger. And he’ll never be out on his own. No matter how much he chafes, close proximity is enforced by the contract._

Pidge didn’t drop their skepticism, but showed a little admiration. _He did break out of that circle pretty fast. That took planning, and self-control._

Shiro felt Lance announce himself, swirling through Shiro’s body. The demon stopped spreading were the Galran arm began. _Huh, can’t mess with that._ Lance tried to exert his influence a few more times before giving up. He focused on his Summoner’s crotch, on how he felt abraded by the over-the-clothing action. Typically, the demon sensitized the flesh he  inhabited, making Shiro wince. _Mullet-head’s got some moves, cap’n! He made you come in your pants like a fucking teenager! Think he’ll let me Ride along next time?_

 _Thanks for the reminder._ Shiro stood and moved to the stairs. After the night’s excitement, a shower and change of clothes seemed in order. _He seemed pretty possessive. I doubt he’ll share his meals._

 _Aw, want to make a bet on whether he has a dick? Or what it looks like?_ Somehow, Lance conveyed the impression of wagging eyebrows.

His last demon finally spoke up before he left the kitchen. _Let the mice in first. They’ve been outside for hours._ Ever the practical one, the Balmeran did almost as much as Pidge to keep Shiro grounded.

 _Thanks, Hunk._ Shiro spun about to the house’s back door. An instant after he opened it, a quartet of great danes romped past. The dogs quickly zeroed in on the empty bowls littering the floor. “Sorry guys, you’ve already eaten.” They gazed at him mournfully before dispersing through the house.

Shiro laid a hand on one of the house’s supporting walls. _Hunk, can you verify he’s still in the house? Better safe than sorry._

The staid Balmeran roused himself. _Sure thing, Shiro._ As usual, it took a few moments for the Bastion of Stone to get moving. Shiro felt his body’s density increase and a lassitude slow his limbs. If there had been a mirror in sight, he could have watched his skin pebble over in gray rock or seen his jaw and forehead thicken to inhuman proportions. Hunk sent infrasonic vibrations into the house and listened for the echoes. _Yep, he’s definitely adding some new resonance to the place. Can’t pinpoint him without some triangulation or more power._

 _That’s not necessary, I just wanted to make sure he hadn’t escaped._ The Summoner shook the Rider from his shoulders and made his way upstairs. He stayed aware for any sign of his new housemate, but the only thing he noticed was his bed’s missing comforter. The demon had clearly absconded with it.

Shro stopped still in shock when he saw himself in the bathroom mirror. There were a dozen gaping holes in his clothing where claws had rent through. His neck was covered in angry bruises from Keith’s assault. Shiro fingered at the barely scabbed-over bite mark. _Lance, a little help?_

 _Aw, I think they suit you! Why don’t you keep them? That’ll keep you paid up for a few days._ Shiro rolled his eyes. He hadn’t paid Lance with blood or basic eroticism in years. The demon had been the quickest to offer up his Price. As a Jester of Lust, Lance fed off more complicated flavors of sex. Some days he would just syphon away Shiro’s libido. Or he’d give Shiro specific instructions: masturbate without porn, buy a sex toy, or try to flirt with a certain person. But the most valuable offerings were acts Shiro wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Fuck some rando from the internet in a public place. Watch porn featuring a twink that looked _too_ young. He’d been trying for ages to bribe his Summoner to sleep with a woman, but that was more of a running joke. For Lance to truly benefit, Shiro had to be conflicted _and_ aroused. He should have expected Lance to request keeping the hickeys on display.

 _Sorry, no. Try something else when my credit runs out. Please, clean it up._ The Mer pouted, but suffused his cool presence into the blemished area. Shiro watched Lance’s delicate features superimpose over his own. His skin took on a blue tint and darker markings spread across his cheeks. Ghostly fins covered his ears and his eyes turned a solid, liquid black. The red marks faded away in moments. _Thanks, buddy._ Shiro got the water running and shucked out of his soiled clothes. As he waited for the water to warm, he noticed his toothpaste emptied out into the sink. _Huh. I guess that doesn’t count as property damage?_ Shiro raised his voice to a shout that carried throughout the house. “I hope you didn’t try to eat that!”

He stepped into the shower and closed the glass door behind him. About halfway through his routine, Shiro noticed lambent eyes staring at him from the blackness of the hallway. “You’re welcome to join me. I doubt you learned much about physical hygiene in the Abyss.”

Keith’s eyes slowly blinked. “Is that an order?” The Galra slowly padded forward until Shiro could just make out his features.

“Of course not. Showers are nice, I just thought you might enjoy it.”

“You seem to be, manling.” Shiro frowned. He looked down to his cock but he wasn’t aroused.

Pidge immediately began theorizing. _Looks like there is a psychic connection after all. I wasn’t sure if there would be one, without sharing a body. Hmm, you haven’t registered any information from him, even subconsciously. Is it unidirectional?_ Shiro tried to reach out to Keith in the manner he would use when calling for one of his Riders through the Veil. He soon met resistance. _Nope, looks like he’s blocking you. I guess he wants some privacy._

The Summoner turned back to the Galra. “You know, it’s a little rude to read me while putting up a wall.”

Keith bared his fangs. “So break it down,” he snarled.

Shiro shook his head. “Keith, I’m not going to do something like that unless it is absolutely necessary. I promise you’ll have as much autonomy as possible.” In response, the demon only hissed and backed into the dark corridor.

 _Something tells me he doesn’t trust you, boss_. Shiro felt Pidge settle onto the tremulous, stifled connection to the corporeal demon. Like a spider, they plucked at the thread trying to glean any leaked information. The human quickly finished his shower only to find that Keith had stolen his towel off the nearby hook as well. He tracked water all over the floor walking to his cabinet stocked with fresh ones.

After dressing in his night clothes and digging his spare blankets out of the closet, Shiro considered looking for Keith again. He decided that giving the demon space would be more conducive to developing trust. Moving easily now that he had two hands, Shiro crawled into bed. Sleep would be elusive tonight. From the tension of his hidden guest to the elation of the successful ritual, he was too keyed up. _PIdge?_

_Geez, you know I can’t do this too often. I’m better than booze or Ambien but it’s still not healthy._

_C’mon, it’s been days since the last time. You know I won’t sleep tonight otherwise._

Reluctantly, the demon acquiesced. They gently gripped Shiro’s mind and pulled him down to dreamless sleep.

Hours later, a weight settling across his thighs woke Shiro. “I’m still hungry, human.” The demon pinned him to the bed, his eyes glowing softly.

Shiro tried to clear away the cobwebs dulling his thoughts. “Shit, need to put a bell on you or something. Can't wake me in the middle of the night asking for blood.”

A hand wrapped around his throat. “I'd like to see you try to collar me.” Claws pricked at his skin. Part of him knew it was an idle threat, but Shiro still felt heat pooling in his groin. “And I don't want your blood,” whispered the demon. Shiro had to stop himself from groaning at the dominant display. He couldn't suppress a shudder, which Keith noticed. “You-you enjoy this? I’m trying to threaten you!” The demon leaned down to gaze directly into Shiro's eyes, subsuming them with the amber glow. The Summoner felt himself harden, and realized that Keith must have stripped him naked as he slept. Soft fur slid along his skin as the demon sidled forward to press his crotch to Shiro's cock. He didn't feel any answering hardness from the Galra but arched into the pressure.

 _Face it, Shiro. You've got a complex._ Lance laughed inside his head, reveling in his human's uneasiness. He felt the demon draw on the quintessence generated by his arousal.

Keith abruptly grasped Shiro's head with clawed hands. “Flee, little fish. Or I will crawl my way into his gray matter and eat you.” The fingers tightened over his temples.

 _Fine, you violent, violet little fuck! But before I go, here's an idea._ Shiro felt the Mer send an image to Keith before slipping away.

The demon leaned back, considering. “The horny devil may have a point. Our first coupling was... insufficient.” He slid down to his original position, sitting over Shiro's thighs again. A purple glimmer suffused his mouth before he bent down to lave his tongue across Shiro's cock.

“F-fuck, your teeth!” stammered Shiro. Those fangs had torn into his neck with the barest pressure. He hoped Keith couldn't feel the jolt in arousal at the thought of those fangs near his crotch.

“Hush. Your concupiscent pet was instructful,” murmured the demon. He bit into Shiro's leg, demonstrating his blunted teeth. Keith took Shiro into his hand. He pumped the cock speculatively as he eyed the tip. The human bucked into his rough strokes. “Is this shape typical for males?” he asked.

“Yes, mostly. I'm a bit bigger than average.”

“Hmm, your size seems inconvenient.” Once again, Keith licked from the base to the crown. his expression contemplative. He must have found the taste acceptable, as he sucked the tip into his mouth. Keith had to open wide to fit his lips around Shiro. He paused there, just applying minimal suction.

“You-you're supposed to move,” said Shiro. He tried to rut his hips but Keith held him down.

“Quiet. This is where the sending ended. No doubt a joke on the pervert's part.” The demon’s eyes narrowed as he clearly plotted revenge. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Keith had a thing for violence. After thinking of some retaliation, he started to move in earnest.

The blow job was inexpert but spirited. Shiro felt the demon pulling at his mind, either trying to cull what the human felt or to learn techniques from his memories. He let his teeth scrape Shiro far too often, but the human found he enjoyed the sensation. It reminded him of the danger, the alien nature of his partner, of how sharp those fangs were moments ago. Keith kept losing his seal around the shaft as he bobbed up and down, filling the room with lewd sucking sounds.

When Shiro felt close to finishing, he tried to warn the demon. “Keith, pull off, I'm almost- fuck!” Shiro’s voice hitched when Keith set his teeth hard against Shiro’s dick and growled. When he judged Shiro sufficiently cowed, Keith dove down, taking the human’s cock deep into his throat. Shiro climaxed in a rush, the usual pleasure heightened by the barrier between the two coming down. Keith swallowed around the head of Shiro's cock as he drew hard on his quintessence. The Summoner could feel the conflicted, confused arousal the Galra experienced.

Eventually, Keith released Shiro and rocked back onto his haunches. Even with his Third Eye closed, Shiro could see a slight glow around the demon. Keith shuddered, trying to process the power he'd consumed. “And to think you apes spill yourself onto the ground,” he panted. The demon mastered himself and leaned forward to grasp Shiro's head again in one hand. Keith’s other hand closed around his balls. “No more. This is _mine_.” The human tried to protest, but Keith answered the most obvious issue. “Unless you're feeding one of the others,” he grumbled. Keith couldn’t ask him to renege on a contract already signed.

Shiro felt that barrier return. Keith rose to unsteady legs and padded from the room. This time, Shiro didn't need help falling asleep as exhaustion took him. If he had stayed conscious for a moment longer, he would have heard an unfamiliar voice filter through his mind.

_Not exactly what I had intended, Paladin. But this may yet be salvageable._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment, even if it's just to point out a typo or awkward phrase.
> 
> Next chapter will have some more world building, and introduce a new character.
> 
> Here's a lovely illustration by EAter. Thanks again for this!
> 
> https://34t3r.tumblr.com/post/174780904511/like-what-you-see-pervert-shall-my-first-meal


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two visitors arrive to investigate, one welcome and one not. Shiro sees a glimpse of a greater threat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut in this chapter, have some narrative. Adding my spin on the demon summoning AU with the Vessel/Sovereign bit.
> 
> The elements from Steven Erikson's novels are introduced here. Don't be surprised if some info seems missing.

The next time Shiro woke, it was to a fist pounding at his front door. A second later the mice joined in, adding to the cacophony with all the noise nearly six hundred pounds of dog could muster.  _ If he’s already terrorizing the populace, I swear I’ll banish him myself.  _ The bedside clock read 7:30 AM, much earlier than he had planned to rise. Shiro quickly dressed, wrapping his Garrison jacket loosely around himself. Only the left arm went through its sleeve, his right was obscured by the heavy cloth.  _ Hunk, find him. Now. _

Shiro channeled enough quintessence to make his sinuses burn. The expenditure of power granted unusual speed to the Bastion of Stone. His presence thundered into Shiro’s mind like a rockslide. Radiant, yellow sunlight spilled from their eyes and mouth as the demon became visible. The Balmeran slammed their shared foot into the floor with enough force to shake the entire edifice. As the shockwaves returned to the overlapping figures, an aberration in the response revealed a crouching presence in a guest bedroom closet.

The Summoner strode through the hallway. Dazed from the overflow of power, Hunk receded from his mind and body.  _ Thanks, Shiro.  _

_ Don’t worry about it. _ The Summoner paused near the guest room. “Keith, stay out of sight unless I call for you.” He looked down to the front door, shaking in its frame. “Or I’m attacked, I guess.”

The officer was still buzzing from the adrenaline rush of drawing and shaping that much energy by the time he reached the living room. Needing time to collect himself, he detoured into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. The familiar ritual calmed his nerves, though avoiding the permanent circle added complexity to the task. As long as the barrier was active, it would block his Galran arm. With the drip started, he called the mice away from the front door to the back. They gazed at him before tromping out into the yard. Available distractions completed, Shiro returned to the shuddering door and looked through the peephole. Without a moment’s hesitation he flung the oaken panel open. “Matt, what are you-!”

“No.” The interruption was too soft and cold for Matt’s exuberant voice. Shiro flinched as a circlet of ivy snaked around his ex’s brow. The eyes became epicanthic and their pupils turned garnet. “You should know better, Sergeant. My Vessel wasted his allocated time this month waiting on you in that hospital.”

Shiro took a long step back from the doorway. “Ryner,” he greeted as calmly as possible. Looking for an outlet for his spiking emotions, he channeled them into the home’s wards. It hurt every time he saw Matt possessed. The event had precipitated their break-up, after all. Intellectually, he  _ knew  _ it was a good match. His boyfriend had shown a sizable reservoir of quintessence, enough to host a powerful demon. But unlike Shiro, Matt couldn’t channel it on his own. As a Vessel, he could not use his innate power to repel demons circling his mind. The harsh, simple reality was that if a demon wanted to inhabit a Vessel, it would. Illusions, threats, promises of greatness, these would eventually wear down the target’s will. Once the slightest concession granted the demon a foothold, it would overwhelm the human. Before long, the host would become a slave to the Sovereign seated in their mind. The only option most Vessels had was to agree to a contract with a determined end.

This one of the Garrison’s founding purposes: to protect vulnerable souls from having their bodies stolen. They brokered acceptable contracts for Vessels, primarily with the less malevolent species. They attempted to shield those that wished no consortion with devils. Matthew Holt was unwilling to live his entire life behind the walls of a Garrison Sanctuary. So, he took the best deal he could find.

Part of Shiro understood his decision. A few years of subservience would grind such deep grooves into Matt's psyche that no other demon could possess him. He was allowed short stints of autonomy. Ryner was high ranked. After the contract ended, the Olkari’s presence would permanently bolster Matt’s intelligence and memory. And he could never become a puppet of the Galran Empire.

Most of Shiro would never understand. He hated seeing that creature wearing Matt’s skin, twisting his features.

“The Veil was sundered last night. Nearby. What do you know of it?” The Olkari pressed forward until they met the wards. Skeins of magic spread across their form, resisting the demon’s presence. Where the power touched, their skin,  _ Matt’s skin _ , began to burn.

With a gesture, the Summoner released the home’s defenses. “And I thought Matt was dramatic,” he spat. Shiro wondered how much Ryner knew, if their first question was so pointed.

The demon smirked and entered the home. “You do see our harmony. Yet you still begrudge our union.” They idly looked around the room. “My ward has refused all contact since yesterday evening. Do you imagine Pidge is trying to hide something?” Ryner’s rust colored gaze bore into Shiro. “Or perhaps they’ve been ensnared by some who is?”

Shiro’s answering smile was closer to a snarl. “I leave the oppression to your kind. Pidge could reach through the Veil to respond whenever they choose.”

“Of course, Summoner. I’m sure this is merely a... familial dispute.”

Brushing past Ryner, Shiro headed for the kitchen. It only took moment’s focus and a determined footstep to interrupt the iron and silver circle as he stepped past it. Using only his left arm, Shiro poured two cups of coffee. “From which side was the Veil torn? Do you suspect that the breach is spreading, or a summoning went awry?” He kept a professionally curious mask in place as he offered a mug to Ryner. The Olkari smiled thinly, glancing down to Shiro’s waiting trap. They stepped back into the living room. Leaving the steaming cups behind, Shiro followed.

“Your games are as transparent as your professed ignorance. By the by, your balance seems much improved.” That was all the warning Shiro received before Ryner ripped away his jacket. They smiled in triumph and tossed the tattered remains of his uniform to the floor. The demon circled Shiro to view his restored arm. The officer had suppressed the more obvious demonic features, not that it now mattered. “I knew it was you. Only a Summoner could tear the Veil so sharply and only you were so desperate.” Ryner crowded Shiro into a corner, leaving him no easy routes of escape.

Ryner stopped to gaze into Shiro’s eyes, searching for lies. “Which High House did you barter with? What did you sacrifice?” He’d been ready to spin some falsehood that omitted Keith or any incarnating ritual, but the bizarre question brought Shiro up short. 

One of his Rider’s took advantage of his surprise. “Seamstress, I haven’t told him of the Houses,” said Pidge quietly. “His arm wasn’t bought by covenant or alignment.” The Olkari forced their way to the forefront of Shiro’s mind. The twining vines that indicated the demon’s presence, usually a comforting support, pulled taut into a net that dragged Shiro down.

_ Pidge? What the hell are you talking about? High Houses, alignment?  _ Shiro didn’t get an answer. He attempted to draw on the demon’s knowledge but was rebuffed without any apparent effort. For the first time he could remember, Pidge completely walled off their surface thoughts.

“What? Then which ritual did he...” When realization dawned, Ryner dashed Shiro into a wall. They hauled his arm up, noticing the pale lavender color for the first time. “You nescient fool! What kind of perversity did you wreak-”

Before Shiro could draw on his other Riders, the attacking demon was tackled across the room. Keith had the figure pressed onto their stomach, with a clawed hand tightening around their throat. The Sovereign’s grip was briefly shaken, allowing Matt’s features to take prominence again. Pidge also loosened their hold, giving Shiro a chance to reassert a modicum of control. He threw that brittle, struck-glass fragment of the Galra’s Name into his voice. “Keith,  _ stop! _ ”

The demon utterly froze. His eyes didn’t blink. He didn’t draw breath. Keith’s gaze didn’t follow Shiro as he crawled up the wall. “Let him go.” The Galra bonelessly complied, arms falling limp. Blood dripped from one clawed hand. Shiro dragged him off of Matt’s body. Only once he had both his visitors separated by a few yards did he relax the Binding.

Keith backhanded Shiro across the face before spasming at the pain defiance caused. The blow didn’t break his nose or cut his lip, but such an attack clearly violated their contract. The demon fell to his knees as his own quintessence enacted the punishment. He wheezed, “They, they were killing you.”

Shiro paused from feeling at the growing bruise. “What? They were asking questions! I work with the demon and I know the Vessel!” He was confused by Pidge’s actions, but he’d never considered that Ryner meant him mortal harm.

The Galra chuckled hollowly before spitting blood to the floor. “What did your little seer call them, Seamstress?” Keith spat again. “That slave of Light would burn out your eyes searching for their truth.”

Ryner rose to their feet. They burgeoned with power until they looked as rooted in the material plane as Keith. “Of course you’re not just Galra made flesh.” They curled their lip in disgust. “Bastard child of Shadow. This abomination cannot be allowed.” Ryner raised a hand and otherworldly, incandescent light blazed from it. The glare frayed at the room’s shadows until they fled. Keith bared his fangs and hissed as his short fur began to singe. Shiro winced as an ache shot up his demonic arm.

“Mother, stop! He’s the key to Voltron!” The Olkari Rider sounded anguished as they screamed the sentence out. Pidge broke free of Shiro’s hold and bloomed in his mind until the human felt suffocated, pressed into a tiny corner of his own psyche. 

Ryner sagged, as if a puppet with cut strings. The burning radiation winked out as they shook their head. The Olkari looked from Shiro to Keith with despair in their eyes. “Child, even if you’re right, you reveal too much. This knowledge is more dangerous than even that creature’s existence. If Sendak heard but a whisper of it, he’d raze the world looking for their Champion.”

“You’ve always been blinded by your own brilliance. Sendak already knows. His _masters_ know.” Pidge had stolen his voice again. Slowly, the Summoner’s right arm reached out to Ryner. Shiro didn't mean to move it. Did not know what was happening, where he was. “Can’t you see? They already tried to plant the seed. That’s why we had to do it. That’s why she drew a Galra for the ritual.”

Understanding brightened the Sovereign’s eyes. “You mean, she has awakened? She knows of this?”

Shiro felt his head loll into a nod. He tried to regain a sliver of control but failed. This shouldn’t be possible. His contract with Pidge should prevent this dominance, this possession. He was a Summoner, he should be able to force the Olkari out of his mind entirely.

Ryner dipped their head in response. “Very well. You and the Galra will explain this, as soon as I assess the home’s warding. But your human knows too much. What will you do?”

Tears pricked at Shiro’s eyes.  _ What I have to. Forgive me, Shiro. Please don’t fight me.  _ The Aspirant of Mind swelled again. “Keith, get ready to catch him.” Even within his own head, Shiro felt as buffeted as a leaf in a hurricane. That sensation ceased as Pidge drew a web around Shiro’s mind. He struggled, impotently. It tightened, ratcheting down until Shiro couldn’t see, couldn’t  _ think _ . The net’s pressure became asymmetrical, isolating pieces of Shiro’s consciousness from the whole. Those memories, fragments of his soul grew numb before they were torn away by inexorable, crushing force. In what felt like a growing pattern, blackness took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do with the action scene? Did I pace the exposition well? 
> 
> Please leave a comment!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro repeats a day, and Keith draws a little closer

The next time Shiro woke, it was to a fist pounding at his front door. A second later the mice joined in, adding to the cacophony with all the noise nearly six hundred pounds of dog could muster. Twin knives stabbed into his temples with each sound. He rolled out of bed and fell to the floor. Head spinning, in the fetal position, he retched until his empty stomach ached. _Fuck. Bastard must’ve drained me dry. If he’s already terrorizing the populace, I swear I’ll kill him myself._

One of the mice, Platt, came up to check on his owner. The dog nuzzled at Shiro's face before grasping his nightshirt between his teeth. Slowly, the great dane helped Shiro into a sitting position. The Summoner ruffled the dog’s ear in thanks. He lumbered to his feet and stumbled forward, putting his left arm through the sleeve of his Garrison coat. _Hunk, find him n- oh_. Shiro swayed as he tried to channel quintessence. The power felt like broken glass in his veins. Before he could brace himself, he fell flat to the floor with a small bounce.

 _D-don’t worry Shiro. That was enough. He’s hiding in a closet._ Hunk’s voice was pitched low, soothing.

 _Thanks._ It took even more time to rise to his feet this time. Every step down the stairs made his temples throb. Shiro slumped against the door and blearily looked through the eyehole. He fumbled at the deadbolt and handle to open it. “Matt? Why’re you-”

“Let us skip the pleasantries.” Matt’s Sovereign advertised their presence, superimposing their alien features over those of Shiro’s ex. The Summoner drooped a little further down the doorway as he watched Matt’s possession be reasserted.

“Hello Ryner,” Shiro said tiredly. “Get my address from the Garrison files or rip it from Matt’s memories?”

“I’m surprised you still see a substantive moral difference between the two.” The demon stepped forward, into the home’s wards. “Will you invite me in, or shall we keep playing games?”

Matt’s skin only sizzled a moment before Shiro dropped the protective magics. He staggered back to the living room’s couch. “My enmity for you has never been a game, Ryner.” Shiro let his head fall back into the cushions. “I’m still planning for the day Matt is free of you. I think I've gleaned enough of your Name to summon and coerce you into a contract of my choosing. Perhaps Bind you to a locket and bury it? See how well your spirit fits into a rat?” He gazed at Ryner through slitted eyes. “You really shouldn’t have given me so much time to scheme.”

His own Olkari tiptoed into his mind. _Boss, this isn’t like you._ Shiro could feel Pidge’s concern but was too tired to care.

“Very well, let’s drop the pretense as well,” said Ryner. They focused on Shiro’s right arm, through the closed jacket. “I know you performed a verboten ritual last night to restore your lost limb. My ward, Pidge, helped you plan the summoning. The only way to fashion a true, flesh-and-blood arm was to couple its creation to a demon crafting their own incarnate body.” Ryner paused, raising an eyebrow. “Need I go on?”

Shiro felt a bone-deep apathy settle over his thoughts. He shook his head.

“I thought as much. Let me see the arm.”

Ryner stalked forward as Shiro stripped off the jacket. They seemed to already know what to expect, only searching for confirmation. The Olkari didn’t comment on the tell-tale complection. Ryner prodded at his fingertips, somehow forcing out the demonic claws. Lastly, they gripped Shiro’s wrist and coaxed a soft violet glow from his palm. Ryner grunted indelicately and let the arm fall to the couch. “Get the beast out here.” The Sovereign stalked over to a seat in the corner, able to watch all entrances to the room.

Out of his own fragility more than anything else, Shiro put the lightest compulsion possible into his voice. “Keith! Can you come on down?” he called. Hopefully the summons was subtle enough to work. Shiro didn’t feel up to a full-blown struggle.

Keith padded into the room. The immediacy implied he had been listening just out of sight. Shiro blinked at the demon’s appearance, trying to process why Keith looked darker in the morning sunlight. Eventually he realized that the Galra was slightly burned, covered in a faint dusting of char. “What happened to you?” asked Shiro.

Without looking at Shiro, Keith prowled in front of Ryner. “Tested the wards earlier,” he muttered. The lavender figure focused on their guest. “And I am no more a Beast than you are a Consort.” The Galra looked ready to spit at the Olkari’s feet.

“Beast, Consort?” Shiro asked, unable to shake the wool from his thoughts. “God, I just realized I never asked your class or aspect.” He blinked at Keith, expecting an answer. He didn't receive one. Shiro sighed, letting his sheer exhaustion show. “Please, don’t fight me today. Please.”

The incarnate demon turned to look at Shiro with... something in his eyes. Regardless, he answered curtly. “Reaver. Wrath.”

Shiro thought over the new information. The class was obviously some sort of warrior, even if he didn't know the exact connotations. Relatively few demons used the base classifications such as witch, seer, or warrior. Those that did were often exemplars of their type. Reaver was certainly more violent than Hunk's class. Bastion denoted steadiness and defense. As a warrior, and a corporeal one at that, Keith would be indispensable in a fight. _Probably not around civilians, though._ Wrath was a derivative of Anger, which meant Keith possessed some affinity for flame. He wondered how Wrath’s mental qualities manifested in a demon seated in its own body. If Shiro ever got back into the field, Keith would compliment his Riders quite well.

He nodded to the Galra in thanks. “What're you going to do, Ryner?” No matter his earlier jibe, Shiro truly didn't have the energy to play games. If Ryner would be difficult, he wanted to know up front.

“I cannot say that I approve. The unsanctioned ritual violated a pact made with the Garrison. You gave form to one of the very demons that began this conflict.” The Olkari shrugged their shoulders. “But that is now immaterial. The situation in Arus is too dire to allow any Summoner to languish. Your abilities are needed. Take the rest of the day to recover. Report to Commander Iverson tomorrow.” Ryner turned to leave. “Bring the demon. Haxus broke another Sanctuary last night.”

As the door clicked shut, Shiro tried to process the news. He thought of all the other Sanctuaries raided by the Galra. The inhabitants stolen, possessed, or outright killed. Just like Matt could have been. Pidge swooped in before his thoughts could spiral any further. _Shh, let me take this Shiro._ The demon spun gossamer around the jagged edges before their Summoner could hurt himself.

 _What do you mean? You’ll get nothing from the memory._ Of all his demons, Pidge had the most terrifying Price. They might subsist by asking Shiro to learn useless, technical information but the demon drew real power from sacrificed memories. By its very nature, the Summoner couldn't know how the Price had been payed. After granting Pidge permission to steal away the knowledge, it was lost to him. Occasionally he would stumble across a hint of a thing he'd forgotten: a photo of an event, a news story he should have remembered, or an in-joke told by another that fell flat. Blunting mental anguish was something Shiro paid _for_ , not _with_.

_It's okay. Don't fight me on this._

_Alright._ He wasn't about to squander Pidge's generosity, even if it should worry him more. No demon gave something away for free.

_I'll give it back tomorrow._

Rubbing at his eyes, Shiro fought through the exhaustion that had plagued him since waking. _Give what back? What're you talking about, Pidge?_

 _Nothing Shiro, I think you're just tired. And it looks like our guest is getting fed up with being excluded._ He looked over at the Galra, who was gazing at the human's face intently. Keith's eyes flicked back and forth, trying to read the non-verbal conversation from Shiro's facial tics and the appearance of Pidge's ethereal features.

“Sorry, Keith,” said Shiro. He grimaced. “I hadn't planned on Ryner being your introduction to civil society.” The Summoner floundered, looking for a good direction to take the conversation.

The demon grunted. He settled onto the chair the Olkari had used. Shaking off some fur as if he could mark the seat, Keith spoke. “Who is this Commander Iverson you owe fealty to?”

Shiro blinked at the unexpected question. Then again, most demons were fixated on hierarchy. He'd never learned how their ranks were determined, but there was some shifting pattern to status between the creatures. _No jokes about tops and bottoms? I'm disappointed in you!_ Shiro groaned internally, and added Lance's presence whenever a chance for lewd joke appeared to the list of things he didn't understand. “Iverson leads the Garrison here in Arus. He held rank in the military before the breaches appeared. Like most of his generation, he was discharged when his abilities were revealed. Not powerful as far as Summoners go, I don't think he's ever had more than one contract open at a time.”

“Is that how relative positions are determined among you? The weak should not yoke the strong.” While Keith bared his fangs Shiro rolled his eyes.

“Please say that to Iverson’s face. He’d break you in half, even without a Rider. Don't I keep the arm if you die?” The demon glowered but Shiro continued. “Commander Iverson hasn’t lead a field team for years, that’s not how his strength is measured. He’s contained the worst demonic outbreak on the west coast for nearly a decade.”

“Pffgh, human conceit is boundless if he credits himself responsible. I will judge him myself.” Keith launched out of the chair and paced the room. As he trailed a finger along the window’s wards he asked, “And how are you ranked? That hag implied they were making an exception for you, for this. Me.”

“Mmhm, I’m the heavy-hitter Summoner in Arus. Only a few others have three open contracts, and they have a lot of overlap. A pair of seer-types, two Balmerans, et cetera. There are a few Vessel/Sovereign pairs contracted to the Garrison that are more specialized, that can do more in their element. As far as I know, I’m the only one with an affinity for channeling multiple demons at a time.” Shiro gestured to his Galran arm. “Before this I managed to draw on all three, simultaneously.”

Keith looked away, pulling on a disinterested affect. “Must have been a serious fight.”

“You’ll have to ask around the outpost tomorrow. I lost the arm soon after. I-I don’t remember much from then and I don’t dwell on it.” Pidge skittered around the edges of his mind, waiting to act. Shiro bulled through the ennui on his own and stood. “Time for breakfast. Do you need to eat? We weren't sure if the, uh, staples would be enough.”

Keith trailed him into the kitchen. “I'm unsure. My hunger for quintessence followed me from the Abyss. Other sensations are new.” He looked around the room he’d been summoned in. The demon seemed unimpressed with the refrigerator and coffee maker. The gas stove held his attention the longest before he turned to the permanent circle spanning across the floor. The Galra aimed a desultory kick, only for his foot to bounce away. As the human took care of the dogs and prepared a simple meal, Keith poked at the circle’s perimeter, watching magic spread in fractal patterns from his touch.

“Do you know if you’re more cat or human? Pidge wasn’t sure how the materials used in the ritual would affect you.”

The demon spoke as if teaching a particularly slow child. “I’m Galra. Not cat, not human, not anything you know. I had no body before you dragged me here with a siren song I could not resist.”

Shiro paused at the vehemence Keith showed. “I didn't mean anything, I only wanted to gauge what food you could tolerate. Cats are carnivorous, so this plate would be better than this one.” He shook the plate with sausage and eggs before the pile of toast. The demon’s suspicious glare didn’t abate but he snatched at the first plate. Shiro dropped a pair of forks onto the kitchen dinette and poured glasses of water for them both.

He waited until it was clear that the demon wasn't going to eat. Before Shiro could speak, he felt Lance slither into his head. _Don't you fight me! Your credit is getting real low._ Grudgingly, the Summoner ceded control of his voice to the Mer demon. “You can't be too shy to eat in front of Shiro, you’ve spent your entire life drinking his blood and come,” Lance taunted.

“Shut it, you perverted parasite! I’d tell you to fuck off and die but you’d probably enjoy it.” Keith stormed out of the kitchen, but at least he took some food.

 _That better have been worth it, Lance._ Shiro wondered if he’d see the Galra for the rest of the day.

 _Nope, that barely keeps you in the black. Don’t fret your pretty little head, I’ll think of something soon._ The last time the Jester of Lust had used that tone, he’d tricked Shiro into a go-go cage at the livelier gay bar in town. And shredded most of his clothes.

Shiro quickly finished his own plate. _Fine, let me know when you decide._ With a little focus, he pushed Lance out of his mindspace.

He didn't have any plans for the rest of the day. Even if Shiro did, he'd have cancelled them due to the odd psuedo-hangover he sported. After rinsing his dishes and leaving them in the sink, Shiro left the room.

His lightheadedness returned as he ascended the stairs. In a repeat of the morning, Shiro stumbled a step and collapsed forward. One of the stairs provided a decent chinrest. _Wonder if one of the mice will come by again?_ It seemed his idle thoughts were correct as soft fur brushed against an arm.

 _Didn’t you just put them out?_ There was something teasing in Pidge’s voice that Shiro wasn’t used to hearing. The Olkari was proven right as hands hooked under Shiro’s armpits to hoist him up. Dizzy from the unexpected movement, he glanced at the slight figure of the person effortlessly holding him.

“You’re stronger than you look,” Shiro noted. He smiled wryly as Keith pulled Shiro's arm across his shoulders and walked up the stairs, bearing both of their weight. “A lot stronger.”

“I told you, you know nothing about Galra,” the demon grumbled. “Is not one of your Riders a Balmeran? You should know how strong we can make a body.”

“Sure, but that’s a quality they’re known for. Pidge and Lance have never made me any stronger.”

“Because that is not what they’re contracted for. Ryner, insufferable zealot they may be, could throw you through a wall,” lectured Keith. Shiro could feel the eyeroll without looking. The Summoner opened his mouth to speak but was cut off. “No, no more talking. You will only make it worse.” He wanted to see how far this talkative streak would go, so Shiro remained silent. “You perform a summoning having no idea what it will catch. Allow your other demons unbelievable freedom. Have no idea what they are capable of. And you believe yourselves responsible for stopping the Galra.” He felt Keith rummage through his head for the appropriate language. “Like children playing with their father's gun.”

As he was carried into the bedroom, he waited to be tossed roughly into the bed. Instead, Keith continued into the en suite bathroom.

“What’re you doing?” asked Shiro. Keith was silent as he deposited his charge onto the shower floor.

“You said showers are nice. Clearly, I cannot trust such a disgrace of a master.” The Galra reached for the shower dial.

“Wait, you have to-” Shiro’s voice cut off into a yelp as ice-cold water pelted him. “You have to fucking warm it up!” he sputtered as soon as he could. “And let me take off my clothes!”

The demon scoffed and grabbed the faucet in one hand. “How else do you wash your garments?” As insubstantial flames burst from the Galra’s fist, the water warmed.

Shivering from the initial shock, Shiro stripped off his wet clothes. “Like a normal person, I have a goddamn washing machine. You’re lucky none of that was dry-clean only.” He doubted the demon heard him. It seemed Keith was focused on his new domestic utility, letting the shadowy fire dim as the shower fixture approached normal temperature.

“That seems like a waste of space. Surely this device supplies the same role,” reasoned the demon, as he stepped into the spray. At first Shiro was alarmed. He was more than warmed sitting on the shower floor; the water would be too hot directly out of the faucet. After Shiro tossed the last of his clothing out, Keith closed the door and settled next to him. The human gasped as a wet hand wrapped around his cock.

“No no no, I can’t do this today. You were fed just last night.” He tried to fight his arousal, to prevent Keith draining him again. His partner was unexpectedly dexterous, tugging his foreskin up to work a thankfully-clawless thumb into it.

Keith ignored his protests. “Only an idiot would think I would feed again. Need you to perform well tomorrow. Why the fuck will this not work?!” the demon raged. Despite his efforts, Shiro remained flaccid.

“It’s cause I’ll fucking die if you do this again.” The larger man kept his eyes screwed shut. He briefly considered calling Lance to siphon off his libido. Unfortunately, that might instigate a turf war between the demons.

“You are a complete lack-wit if that’s what I am doing.” Keith grabbed his master’s skull and forced eye contact. “Trust me. How do I make you tumescent?”

“Do I even know that word? First, don’t say ‘tumescent’ or ‘turgid’ ever again. Next, I can’t get off if you’re just acting like a goddamn vampire.”

 _Not for a third time, eh?_ Lance pulled his presence away from Shiro’s mind entirely, pooling it in the human’s groin. _C’mon, you know you like being a fucking incubus’ victim. And he's actually trying to help._

Against his desire, Shiro slowly hardened. “I need to touch you too.”

The Galra clenched his fist just hard enough to sting. “Fine. If that’s what you need.”

“Not really helping. C-can you get in my lap?” Shiro didn’t know how far he could push this newfound access. The flighty creature hadn’t responded well to previous reciprocal touches. Slowly, Keith shifted to straddle his human. He blocked the shower, but his innate warmth more than compensated. Shiro hesitantly settled a hand on the demon’s ass. Its firmness beat Matt’s by a long mile, and he had biked daily. Slowly, the Summoner worked his other hand up Keith’s torso. The occasional bony plates accentuated the demon’s abs until he reached the chest. Shiro’s demonic hand searched for a nipple and was rewarded. Without conscious effort, a claw unsheathed and teased at the sensitive spot.

“Fuck, what are you doing to me?” the Galra groaned. The expression of legitimate arousal breathed life into Shiro.

“I think, I think you like this,” said the human. He shifted his left hand around to the demon’s front. Shiro ghosted fingers through the thatch of hair covering Keith’s crotch. Briefly, he felt something he’d only felt with his single trans boyfriend. A lavender hand grasped his own and held it away.

“Not the point here.” Keith sped up his slick hand’s movements over Shiro’s cock. As he shuddered through his orgasm, Shiro expected to feel the usual drain from the Galra. Instead, he felt a warm glow infuse his body as the climax hit.

“Hhng, what’re you doing?” asked Shiro. In place of the typical draw, he felt strength suffuse his body. Shiro felt Keith’s grip shift, using the come to slick his hand. He bucked into the Galra’s fist, pumping long after he would normally have been overwhelmed.

“Did you really think this went one way?” Finally, Shiro realized that Keith was feeding him the demon's own quintessence.

Shiro luxuriated in the euphoria. “Wh-why? I don't understand.”

Keith settled fangs against the column of Shiro’s throat as he spoke. “What happens to me if you fail tomorrow? Deal with some reciprocity.” As the teeth bit in, the heady pleasure redoubled. He came again from the inverted transfer of power and began to feel normal for the first time that day. Shiro sat there panting, feeling the small wound close from the energy he'd been given. He glanced at Keith and recognized the Galra's expression. Shiro had worn the same curiously self-satisfied look after watching Keith experience this.

“Help me up? I'll show you how showers usually go."

"I think I'll like my way better."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, at least there was a little smut in this chapter!
> 
> So, to be clear, Keith is not trans in this fic. We're talking xenophilia to be expanded on later. I'm not trans, nor have I had a trans boyfriend. Please let me know if you think the reference is in poor taste.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is introduced to the wider world. Shiro tries to get back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been substantially re-written. To prevent any confusion, the full names of the new characters are Nadia Rizavi, Ryan Kinkade, James Griffon, and Ina Leifsdottir. The first names aren't used in the show.

Shiro pulled his closet door open. He had already done the same with a few drawers around the room. “Alright, pick something.”

“This is ridiculous. A dozen times is not enough, I have to explain again? I am not human. I have no nudity taboo. Covering myself is redundant,” argued Keith, gesturing to his fur. He stood in the center of the room like an pouting child.

 _Oh please,_ please _tell him what you just thought. I want to make a bet on minimum-safe-distance._ Ever a trickster, Lance baited Shiro into a stupid decision. The Summoner had plenty of practice resisting.

“Yes, I know that you don't want to wear it. But people need a way to tell that you're not hostile. Most Galra wear little more than rags, so decent clothing is the easiest method to differentiate yourself,” reasoned Shiro. He did his best to meet Keith’s eyes, to tear his eyes away from the demon’s body. Shiro didn’t, couldn’t explain that part of him simply didn’t want others to see Keith naked. The lavender fur obscured less than he had initially believed. Whenever Keith extended himself or stretched, the hard planes and lines of his physique became clear. “We’ll talk with the logistics department about something more practical.”

Keith spat out some invective under his breath. He rummaged through Shiro's wardrobe, grumbling all the while. Whatever didn't meet his capricious standards was tossed over his shoulder. Shiro tried not to stare as Keith leaned over to dig deeper into the closet. The Galra shamelessly bent at the waist, showing the rippling muscles of his back and soft swell of his ass. Pretending to be fascinated with a piece of lint on his uniform, Shiro looked away. He absolutely didn't want to start their first outing with a hard-on. Or to give Lance more ammunition to mock him.

Eventually, Keith came up for air. He held up two articles of clothing that were roughly his size, unlike what he’d tossed away. Shiro had forgotten that the outfit was still in his closet. He watched a little numbly as Keith bounced around the room, fighting his way into the dark jeans. The demon shrugged the red tinted leather jacket over his shoulders.

Pidge and Lance both tried to speak at the same time. One voice was soothing, the other laughing in delight. _Oh, I can't wait to tell the mullet-head that he picked your_ ex’s _clothes._ The Olkari shoved Lance away.

_Boss, this okay? I can talk to Keith and-_

The Garrison officer shook his head. _No, it's fine._ He turned to finish his morning routine. As Shiro cleaned his teeth, he noticed that the brush he'd given to Keith was already worn down to a useless snarl. He poked his head out of the bathroom to see the demon inspecting himself in a mirror. He had to admit that Keith made the clothes work, better than Matt ever had. The deep red of the open jacket clashed with his purple fur and a few of those bone spurs looked ready to pierce the denim. It was _how_ Keith wore the outfit that pulled it together. His demeanor, his expression screamed that he'd deck anyone that dared to criticize his choices.

Lance popped in again. The Mer gazed through Shiro’s eyes as he analyzed the Galra. The next best thing to an incubus, Lance had preternatural intuition when reading body language. _Damn, he's vulnerable. That sneer’s a middle finger to the world. First week here, first day out, first time dressing himself. No idea what the fuck you two are together._ The demon paused his assessment. _If anyone goes after him, step in. He's too raw to answer a challenge without, well, wrath._

Shiro walked over the cabinet holding his gear. He quickly strapped on his shoulder harness and sheathed his two knives. For a moment he was confused why his service weapon was missing from its safe. It only took a moment to remember. Standard practice after a debilitating injury. Shiro didn’t dwell on it.

“Hey, Keith. When you clean your teeth, use that blunting trick. The brush is meant to last months.”

The Galra didn't answer. His eyes flicked to Shiro, looking for signs of judgement. When Keith couldn't find any signs of disapproval, he relaxed imperceptibly. Without speaking, the two made their way downstairs. Shiro removed the grate blocking the doggie door. He always figured that if someone got passed the mice, they were welcome to a few rewards. The house, and its major furnishings, were owned by the Garrison anyway. Shiro waved the demon into the garage and towards his car. “I know you haven't seen these, just copy what I do on the other side.” The battered black SUV wasn't glamorous, but it had cold AC and an audio jack.

Keith moved hesitantly, but followed. He had some trouble with the door handle, as his view of exactly what Shiro did was blocked. He balked at the seat belt.

“Why are we restraining ourselves? Part of the fish's Price?”

The Summoner laughed, but there was a sharp edge to it. “Please, don't give him any ideas. I've got to pay him soon and he's already nearly killed me in this car.”

_Oh come on, you loved that road head!_

“Yeah, I nearly careened off a goddamn cliff!”

_Um, that's what I said. If you didn't enjoy the blow job you wouldn't have driven that way._

“Wouldn't have traumatized some poor college sophomore either.”

_Please, the kid was into it. Anyway, I've already got a plan in mind. I'll need some phone time today._

He shuddered, some combination of arousal and dread seething in his belly. The Jester hadn't driven him to do anything that left him sobbing in the fetal position, not yet at least. But some days it felt like a matter of time. “I suppose what's why it's a Price,” he mumbled.

“These one-sided conversations are truly fascinating. Please continue them all day, I don't mind waiting in this apparent deathtrap slash sex dungeon.” Keith delivered this in a deadpan monotone that would do Ryner proud. “Or even better, keep the entire exchange internal and allow me some thrice-damned silence.”

Shiro started the car and opened the garage door. “Keith, you knew I had other contracts from the beginning. I have to meet their needs too. C'mon, enjoy the drive. One of the best parts of my day.” He wasn't exaggerating. Set in the hills above Arus, his borrowed home offered a wonderful view of the town and the Mojave surrounding it. Shiro pointed out a few landmarks as they wound their way down toward the city. “The newer looking buildings are operated by Garrison. See the taller, scattered ones? They're Sanctuaries, sort of apartment complexes for those vulnerable to demons. The warding is focused on incorporeal ones, to prevent possession, but you should be blocked as well.”

Keith studied the city, which wasn't large by California standards. “Why do you place your noncombatants so close to the source of their danger?”

“Well, the Sanctuaries aren't _that_ close to Kerberos. They're mostly in the outskirts of Arus,” answered Shiro, pointing again to the locations. As they drew closer, the dilapidated city-within-a-city became clearer. By the time the Garrison had stopped this breach’s expansion, a substantial portion of the city was abandoned. The remaining inhabitants felt the new name was appropriate, as they stood guarding a gate to hell.

“We build them this close so we can ward them effectively. I can use _my_ power to defend _my_ home, but that doesn't scale to public places. You can't really place a circle around an entire building. A couple dozen lesser spirits are harnessed to protect each Sanctuary. You couldn't do that a thousand miles away from Kerberos, or another breach. Too difficult to summon the necessary number of demons.” He shrugged. “It's the best we can do, and they aren't prisons. Plenty of Vessels work in Arus or leave for a few hours.”

“They abandon their place of safety? If a demon wants a certain host, a handful of hours a day is all we need. The influence would build slowly, until the decision to never return seems rational. Once they’ve wandered too far to return...”

The Summoner nodded. “People do choose to leave Arus entirely, though we try to check for signs of compulsion. It's an awful choice. Here, there's defined safety and defined risk. Elsewhere, both become less certain. At least everyone in Arus understands what they're going through. The Garrison is ready to defend them. And Matt just developed a new strategy we've been testing.”

“His contract allows him that much independence? I'm surprised Ryner would be so magnanimous.”

“What can I say? Matt was always been a catch.” Shiro made the remark flippantly, but his passenger took it more seriously. Keith's claws sprang out as he realized the full extent of the humans’ relationship. Before he could formulate an appropriately barbed response, they arrived at Shiro's precinct.

It was the only Garrison base in an older building. Constructed during the '50s, the solid mass of concrete appealed to Commander Iverson. He imagined that something built to withstand a nuclear air raid would fair well against the new threat.

After parking around back, Shiro lead Keith inside. “I'm sure Ryner prepared for us, but these people are used to fighting Galra not working with them. Today I only need to check in with Iverson and get new orders. Don't respond to aggressive body language or insults. Use minimal force if someone physically attacks you. We get in, and get out.” He placed a hand on the demon’s shoulder as they entered. “If someone gives you trouble, _I'll_ stop it.”

The outer doors were not heavily warded. Too many Garrison officers were possessed Vessels that needed easy access to the building. There was a minor forbiddance that prevented demons, and their influence, from crossing without a physical body. Shiro was surprised by how strongly he felt the barrier now. It had never been more than a tingle on his skin, created by his Riders’ residual presence. This time, his new arm dragged behind Shiro. He had to brace his feet to pull it through, as if he was hauling the appendage out of mud. As he recovered Shiro turned to Keith; he'd lost his grip.

The Galra was fighting the warding. Sparks danced across his body as he waded into its resistance. Shiro reached back to help. Grabbing Keith with his left arm grounded the demon within the outpost, similar to how Shiro could call his Riders through the building’s forbiddance. It seemed that demonic flesh was more susceptible to the building's protection. He ignored the stares they attracted. Shiro nodded to the desk sergeant. She returned the gesture coolly and reached a glowing hand out to lower the more powerful inner wards. Weeks ago, the woman was much more friendly. The cheery morning exchange was a small thing, but its absence stung.

They moved quickly through the building to Iverson's office. The commander's secretary waved them to the bench beside the closed door. It took a moment for Keith to join his Summoner on the uncomfortable wooden seat. Shiro watched his normal hand pat at his left pocket with a bemused expression. Lance was being subtle, barely perceptible in the Summoner's mind. He waited for the demon to realize that the phone was in his other pocket.

 _A little help? I need the phone and I can't move the other arm._ Lance put just the right amount of wheedling desperation into his voice. Shiro passed the device over. He tried to watch what the demon was doing, but Lance blurred his vision over the screen. He could have brushed aside the interference, but ruining the surprise would lessen the value Lance placed on this transaction. Besides, the tell-tale orange glare from the smartphone made Lance's activity crystal clear.

Shiro laughed softly to himself. _I think you've used Grindr_ _more than I have._

 _If it wasn't for me your sex life would be non-existent._ The demon's voice was distracted, focus presumably on the scrolling feed of headless torsos.

Shiro overrode Lance a few minutes later, locking the screen when Iverson's door opened. His commanding officer glowered before leading them back into his office. He didn't gesture to the set of chairs in front of his desk, so Shiro remained standing at attention. Keith hung back just behind his Summoner.

“Your astounding lack of judgement is disappointing, sergeant. Do you have any idea how many people an unbound, incarnate Galra could kill, because I sure as hell do not. That wasn’t a question, keep your damn mouth shut.” Iverson paused his rant, daring Shiro to comment. “You think you're the only one to lose a piece of yourself in this fight?” asked Iverson. He tapped at the scarring that surrounded his eye patch. “How does it look, when the best of us, our _champion_ , breaks one of our most serious prohibitions? The last time we saw a corporeal demon, sixty people died. Binding didn’t hold, it got free of the idiot that summoned it. And that was a damned Balmeran! If we weren't so desperate, if Ryner hadn't spoken on your behalf, you would have been drummed out of the service and that creature would have been destroyed.” Iverson slumped back into his chair. “But we are that desperate. Did Ryner mention that another Sanctuary was attacked? Five confirmed dead and nearly three times that number missing. We don't know how Haxus managed it.”

He rose back up, leaning on mahogany behemoth he called a desk. “How capable is this demon? It seems small for a Galra. What the hell are you calling it?”

“He's a warrior, sir. Keith should be an asset in the fight.” Shiro kept his tone measured and his sentences concise.

“That’s a pathetic name for a Galran soldier. Standard contract? No issues fighting his own kind?” he asked suspiciously.

“Standard terms, with a few exceptions. He had to heal my arm, has to stay near me. His body dies if I do. All the normal clauses about harming others. I’ll get a written transcript to Matt.” Shiro glanced to Keith. “The ritual circle wasn't tuned to draw a demon willing to fight the Galra, sir. He's shown no hesitation so far, but I can't definitively say until he's tested.”

Iverson nodded. He reached out of sight to retrieve Shiro’s service weapon. A neon orange safety lock was threaded through the semi-automatic’s open receiver down into the handle. “Then that's your task for tomorrow, Sergeant Shirogane. Head out in your standard patrol. Skirt the edges of Kerberos, find some sentries at least. Get him blooded.” The brooding soldier turned to his computer monitor. “Spend the rest of the day remembering how to do your job. Check in with the squad before commissioning some kind of uniform for the demon. Dismissed.”

Shiro saluted and collected his pistol before leaving the room. Keith followed quickly as the officer unlocked the safety and holstered the empty weapon. “That went much better than I expected. Ryner must have been persuasive, for whatever reason.”

“Mmhm.” The Galra kept turning to glance at Iverson's door.

“Keith, you don't need to be nervous about the commander. I meant what I said about the meeting going well.”

The demon shook his head, hard enough to make his ears flap back and forth. “Fine. Who are these others he ordered us to see?”

“I'm a sergeant, I lead a squad of other Summoners. They're barely a year out of training, so they still need supervision.” Shiro walked briskly to the common areas. He didn’t see his team. “Ideally we'll join them on patrol tomorrow. I'd rather avoid the other squads for a while, too many are trigger happy around Galra.”

“Is that an undesirable quality? Besides myself, have they ever seen a Galra that was not their enemy?”

Shiro couldn't stop himself from giving Keith some side-eye. The demon seemed to have no affinity for his own kind. “I don't care how overzealous they get when destroying sentries. Those demons are only just sentient, their bodies mostly scrap metal. But what we consider ‘actual’ Galra, like Haxus and Morvok? They're possessed people. Kill the demon and you kill the host.”

It was Keith's turn to glance sideways. “You speak as if you can save them. I guarantee it, you will not restore Haxus’ Vessel. Nor would they thank you if it were possible.”

“That may be true. But we're not executioners. Lethal force, especially from you, is only permitted when it's the only way to prevent a human’s death.” Shiro stopped next to a stairwell. “Enough of that depressing topic. Time you met someone besides Ryner or Iverson.”

_Hey, Hunk? Can you check if Kinkade and Shay are in the building?_

_What? Why would I know that? I'm not, I'm not keeping tabs on her or anything._

Pidge did something like the mental equivalent of placing a calming hand on Hunk's shoulder. _Settle down. He asked you to look for her, not whether you already were._

 _But you totally were,_ Lance taunted.

Shiro pushed the Jester away, not completely out of his mindspace but far enough to give Hunk some room. _Don't let him rile you up. Location?_

Hunk grumbled a bit. _Third floor, east wing, fourth door on the right. Sitting by the window._

 _Thanks buddy._ He motioned Keith to follow him downstairs. Shiro certainly didn't mention that Hunk had known Shay's exact whereabouts without actually searching the building. He also kept a tight grip on Lance, who'd tried to say the same thing. Only, well, bitchier.

_Hey, I heard that!_

_Yes,_ you _did. The others didn't. I don't need another screaming match in my head._

Lance seethed. _I'm_ always _the problem. The lumbering idiot steals your favorite meals. The witch eats your childhood memories. Who the fuck knows what the other cunt or ‘short, purple, and angry’ will want. What do I do? Get you laid. Make you enjoy yourself. Fuck this, I'm out._

 _Wait. Other, er, woman?_ It was a confusing statement. Pidge wasn't really gendered, for one. And Shiro didn't have any other Riders. Maybe Lance meant one of the feminine demons he'd dealt with but never fully contracted? He would have to ask later; the mercurial Jester had disappeared.

They arrived at the door Hunk had indicated, an old office converted into a breakroom. Shiro paused with one hand raised to knock and the other on the door handle.

He hadn't seen his team in a long time. It had been even longer since they had seen him, the real him, and not a washed out husk still reeling from a life-changing injury.

Shiro knocked and stepped into the room. “Hey guys,” he said simply. The squad appeared to be analyzing field reports, at least a couple months worth by the sheer volume of paper. Rizavi was the first to respond. She leapt out of her seat to pull Shiro into a hug that made his ribs creak.

“You're finally back, you should have told us! We'd have gotten a cake or something.” She leaned back to level a more serious gaze at him. “You've been skipping our Thursday night happy hour.”

“Yeah, sorry about that Nadia,” he replied sheepishly. Shiro moved around her to greet the others. Kinkade nodded levelly at him and cleared a seat for his sergeant. Leifsdottir didn't say anything, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He could tell her mind was at work, noting every detail of his and Keith’s appearance. That a second set of eyes glowed out of the blonde’s forehead only confirmed the intensity of her scrutiny.

Griffin didn’t meet Shiro’s gaze, fidgeting and scowling at his lap. His anger was further telegraphed by ghostly spines that faded in and out of existence along his extremities. While visible, they lashed about in some unseen current. “James, are y-”

“What the fuck were you thinking, summoning a _Galra_?!” exploded the corporal. “You could have made me, all of us guilty by association! My field record, Ina’s test scores, everything could have been ruined by your recklessness!” He was about to continue when Kinkade reached out to place a calming hand on Griffin’s’ shoulder. “I’m sorry, I can’t deal with this today,” he said. Before Shiro could respond, the angry junior officer dodged passed him into the hallway. He flicked a mild forbiddance at Keith to shove the demon against the doorjamb and out of his way.

Shiro grabbed Keith’s hand when it looked like the Galra would try to follow. After closing the door, he turned back to his team. “What was...” he trailed off.

Nadia patted his arm. “Don't worry about James. He's been acting off for a couple weeks now.” She tapped a finger to her temple. “Scuttlebutt has it that his Rider isn't happy about something. And her contract ends soon.” Griffin, like the rest of the team, didn't have a cadre of reliable demons the way Shiro did. He could call on other spirits if he lost Luxia, but they were unreliable and less powerful.

The officer tried not to let the outburst sour his mood. James had always possessed a hair trigger. “Luxia, be unpleasant? Stop the presses.” Shiro copied how Kinkade organized his files and cleared another seat for Keith. As he sat down Shiro motioned for his demon to follow. “Everyone, this is Keith.”

Silence. No one exploded like Griffin, but they weren’t friendly either. Shiro bulled through the awkwardness like it didn’t exist. “What’s with all this data?”

“It was Ina’s idea. She's looking for some correlation between our seers’ predictions and patrol reports,” stated Kinkade.

Shiro blinked. “Their augury have been useless for months now.”

“That's not entirely true. Your perspective as a field officer clouds your vision.” Leifsdottir nodded at two stacks of paper, roughly equal in size. “These predictions, concerning Galra attacks and locations, have not been accurate. However, visions of Kerberos _not_ focused on the Empire have remained helpful.”

Kinkade shook his head and passed a hand over his kinky hair. “It's more than that. We assumed that the situation in Kerberos was too volatile for divination, or that the growing breach was affecting our seers. In either situation, the predictions would be little more than background noise. Random, with false positives where a guided patrol finds their target by chance.” He stopped to let Shiro process the information.

“But the patrols directed by seers have had a nearly perfect failure rate,” muttered Shiro.

Leifsdottir neatly organized the last few reports she held. “We should have seen this discrepancy sooner. Ryan and I will coordinate with Commander Holt as we work on theories. My current hypothesis, well, it is not good.”

“A new Galra, higher ranked than Haxus. Powerful enough to confuse _all_ our seers while hijacking their predictions.” Rizavi looked uneasily around the room. “Speaking of Haxus. Some of the brass want to change the rules of engagement. Issue a kill order.”

Shiro cursed softly. That level of escalation hadn't been necessary at this breach.

“I know Haxus,” said Keith. “He was paper soldier serving a tin baron. If he’s the the worst you’ve faced, you should hope instead that your seers are wholly incompetent.”

Ina huffed. “You are lucky that Shiro bound you, and not someone like Iverson. Or me, quite frankly. We would not let those cryptic statements go unexplained.” The blazing set of eyes reappeared in the middle of her forehead. La-Sai, her demon, was non-confrontational as seers tended to be. Now Shiro felt a scorching heat from across the room.

“Try me,” snarled Keith. “What demons have you bested, beyond some twig barely able to predict a coin toss.” The yellow of his sclera blazed until the demon’s eyes resembled molten gold.

Shiro stepped in before Leifsdottir could reply. “Alright, that's enough socialisation for today. We'll see you tomorrow for a patrol,” said Shiro as he pulled Keith to the door. He hesitated before leaving. “Nadia, I hate to ask, but could you talk to James? You and Plaxum are the best at calming him when he's like this.”

She smiled faintly. “Sure thing, boss.” Shiro nodded in thanks as he set off for his last task at the outpost.

They didn’t talk before Shiro stopped outside an office similar to Iverson’s. He didn’t feel up to more worried looks today. Instead of ducking in to speak with Commander Samuel Holt, he scribbled his requirements onto a form and dropped it into a waiting tray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got really long, but I couldn't find a place to break it.
> 
> Please leave a comment, even if it's only to correct a mistake.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets some field experience, Shiro rescues a damsel in distress, and Lance sets up some fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was previously the second half of chapter 5 before it was re-written

The next morning found Shiro and Keith returning to their Garrison station. As they approached the warded doors, Shiro made sure to ground Keith to ease his entry. “I hope Nadia was able to smooth James's feathers. All I see around here today are hotshots I warned you about.” Shiro led them towards his patrol car in the garage.

Keith nodded distractedly. “We could go in alone. There’s no need to worry, our contract is clear. I'm bound to protect you.”

“Every demon says the contract is safe. That's how you trap us,” he snorted. “And following a strange new Galra into Kerberos without backup could get me court-martialed. The Summoner noticed Keith’s agitation, he kept glancing up the windows into Iverson's office. “Still intimidated by the commander? He has that effect on people.” The demon didn’t respond.

Shiro greeted his team in the outpost garage. James didn't appear happy, but neither was he visibly agitated. They took two cars, with Keith and Shiro in the lead. As they smoothly drove towards their destination, Shiro gently probed for information. “How much do you know about the breach?”

“It's one of under a dozen places my kind can cross without a summoning. Few demons come back to say more, but they don't need to. A chance to escape the Abyss, to find a host is worth the risk.” Keith turned back to the window. He avidly watched the people along the street. The drive down from Shiro's home was too deserted and too early to allow people-watching.

“On our side, it's become a kind of slum. Normal people abandoned it years ago. Now Kerberos is pretty run-down, full of demons and possessed Vessels. The Garrison has a sort of demilitarized zone surrounding it. Severely limited car traffic. There's no official federal policy on these places, so we can't prevent people from entering. Just monitor and test people as they leave. Hell, even if someone is possessed, what can we do? The demon will claim it’s riding along and we can't prove otherwise.” Shiro slammed a palm into the steering wheel. “Half the people don't think this is real and the others want to nuke us.”

“Do you truly think you're helping? All this effort, and what have you accomplished? The Galra remain near this breach because they wish to. You can't stop them, or any others, from taking hosts.” Keith's voice was frank. Shiro unintentionally slowed in traffic.

“I know we can't find the Galra base in Kerberos. I know we can't save people already possessed. But we can defend the ones that haven't been taken. And we can reduce sentries to piles of fucking slag.” Shiro screeched to a stop beside a Garrison checkpoint.

Keith shivered as Shiro leapt out of the car. He tried to mask his response with a question. “You refer to my kin animating constructs?” he asked.

“Yes, not actual people. I think the term comes from how they act as lookouts so frequently. They make up the vast majority of Galra we encounter.” Shiro waved to the other Garrison officers inside the guard house. “Keep your eyes open. Not everyone in here is hostile. Don't engage without explicit direction.” The rest of his team didn't need orders. He performed a radio check anyway.

Keith rolled his eyes as he moved forward. The demon hovered a dozen paces in front of Shiro and the others. His focus seemed to be on the windows of the buildings beside them, but Shiro noted how his ears were twisted around behind him.

As Keith passed an open doorway, he abruptly set his feet and dashed through. A pair of screams, one low, one high, resounded from building. Shiro pounded after him, skidding into the room. “Set up a perimeter!” he shouted over his shoulder.

He found Keith menacing a pair of individuals, backing them into a corner while his hands dripped a lurid violet light. The Summoner hauled Keith back, interspersing himself between the Galra and his victims. “Stand down now, Keith! I know them.” He stared hard at the demon, his gaze threatening to use Keith’s Name. The demon relaxed his arms, allowing the gathered power to fall and sizzle against the floor. “For future reference, that counts as engagement.”

He waved off Nadia when she stuck her head in and turned to the Kerberos natives. “Nyma and Rolo, this is Keith.” Shiro looked back to his demon. “They're safe. Ish.” He loosened his iron knife pointedly. Rolo ignored the aggressive gesture and spread his arms. All of them. Shiro was continually perturbed by the second set of arms Unilu demons forced their Vessels to grow. He didn’t understand how they purported to be such master deal makers with such an off-putting attribute. At least the host’s body returned to normal after the Unilu left. Most of the time.

“Shirogane, buddy! Long time no see! Good that you’re whole again,” greeted Rolo. “Maybe you’ll catch up to me soon, eh?” He flexed his lower arms.

Shiro took a step back. He knew how fast the deceptively non-violent Unilu could move. “I don’t think so, sorry. This was a one-time replacement.”

The salesman was brushed aside by Nyma. “Shiro, baby, let me give you a kiss for saving us,” she purred. She’d found a new Vessel, this one lithe yet voluptuous in a way Shiro’s straight friends couldn’t resist. Nyma wore little more than a strip of cloth across her breasts and a short skirt. The Mer sashayed forward until a raised knife stopped her.

“Uh uh,” warned Shiro. “You should know by now that you can't lower my guard that way.” Ever the succubus, Nyma relied on her feminine wiles to disarm targets.

_ Goddammit Shiro. If you won’t even look at  _ her  _ , how am I going to find you a nice girl to settle down with?  _ Lance thrummed with energy whenever Shiro met Nyma. The Summoner suspected they had a past. His Jester deeply wanted to best her, but Shiro refused to play her games.

“You're no fun,” she pouted. “He's not what I think he is, right?” Nyma wagged finger at Keith. He called that lavender glow back to his fists in response.

“Actually, he is. We're looking for a few of his friends. Seen any?” Rolo and Nyma were tolerated by the Garrison for two reasons. First, they moved hosts regularly and didn't steal away years of a person's life. Second, the duo knew nearly everything about Kerberos. If one wanted information, they were a semi-reliable source. With the Garrison's seers frustrated, Rolo and Nyma had the best information about Galran movements.

Rolo stepped forward again, his smile advertising a few gold teeth. Shiro hoped it was just an illusion. “Perhaps, perhaps. What have you got in return? After all, we're taking on a lot of risk crossing Haxus.”

The human waved away the concern. “We don’t need to know where he sleeps. Keith and I just want to do him the favor of banishing a few Galra too weak to find a real host.”

“Hmm.” Rolo pretended to think, eyes glinting. For most Unilu, haggling was life. “For that, ten years off your life.”

“Pocket lint.”

“Your firstborn.”

“Fourteen dollars, in crumpled ones.”

“A finger. I’ll even take the pinkie.”

“Tour of a Garrison circle, from the inside.”

“All your clothes.”

“Nyma wearing more?”

Spitting at Shiro's feet, Nyma broke into their bargaining. “I want a kiss from your new  _ friend _ .” She turned luminous eyes toward Keith. The Summoner wasn't comfortable with the emphasis Nyma placed on  _ friend _ , it hinted at knowledge he didn't want her to have. Knowledge she could sell to a variety of buyers.

Shiro raised his eyebrows and turned around. “Up to you, Keith. A kiss in exchange for the location of some sentries?”

The Galra ruminated for a moment. Keith shrugged his slight shoulders. “Very well.”

Nyma stalked forward, trailing a hand down Shiro’s demonic arm as she passed him. She slunk to a stop before Keith. The succubus leaned in gently before stopping, daring Keith to cross the distance.

Shiro watched the Galra close his eyes and reciprocate. Just before their lips met, Keith grabbed Nyma by the shoulders and brought her to the ground. With deliberate slowness, he brought a closed hand down to touch Nyma’s lips. Keith looked toward Shiro. “What’s that song we listened to on the way? ‘Kiss with a Fist?’”

High, inhumane laughter startled them both. Nyma writhed against the floor. “Oh, that glance makes it worthwhile.” With newfound strength, she forced Keith away from her. Nyma dusted herself off and waltzed further into the building. “Pay them, love.”

Rolo watched his partner with hungry eyes. “24th and G Street. Yellow trim, two stories. Under half a dozen sentries.” He stalked after her, lower arms rubbing against each other.

Turning away, Shiro used his right arm to haul Keith up. “C’mon, that’s only a couple blocks away.” The Galra stumbled a bit as he padded after Shiro. “Are you okay?”

Keith spat to the side. “I’m fine. Didn’t expect her to like it.”

The Garrison officer let the issue drop. “Sentries aren’t that perceptive, whatever their name. We can probably surprise them. They can be incredibly strong, so don’t let them grab you.” They stepped out of the building. “Alright guys, that was serendipitous. We’ve got a perfect target. This is pretty low-stakes. Keith and I will take point, you four are on containment. Don’t let anything escape.”

Shiro lead the way as they loped to the sentries’ location. He dropped a hand to his service weapon.  _ Pidge you’re up. Charge the rounds.  _ The Olkari fluttered in his mind as they funneled Shiro’s quintessence into the semi-automatic.  _ Hunk, focus on defense for now. _

The Summoner felt his mind strain as he channeled the two demons. His left hand sprouted translucent vines from the Olkari’s presence. Hunk manifested as a gritty texture across Shiro's skin. He peeked around a wall to view his target. Nothing was obvious, but that meant little in Kerberos. 

“Everyone, standard roles. Kinkade, guard the front door. Rizavi, Griffon, watch his back. Leifsdottir, find a good vantage and update the station.” He watched them stealthily move off to their tasks.

“This way, we'll cut through an alley,” Shiro whispered to Keith. This brought the pair up to the side of the sentries’ building.  _ Hunk, find them. Quietly.  _ Gently, the Balmeran brought Shiro's foot back to kick several times against the brick wall.

_ Four sentries. They're all on the second floor, in the southeast room. But Shiro, they're not alone. _

_ What? Can you tell who's there? Be a little louder if you have to. _

The kicks became more forceful. Small clouds of dust rose from the wall.  _ They're surrounding a fifth person. I can't much, but the last figure is on the ground. _

“Fuck. Keith, there's a person up there. They may be fully possessed already. If they are, we disable the sentries and retreat. You  _ can't  _ kill the host. If they're not already gone, we get them out. The Garrison may be able to help.” Shiro’s mouth filled with the taste of burning iron as he reinforced the commands with a fragment of Keith’s Name.  _ Hunk, is there a quiet path up there? _

_ No, all weak floorboards covered in trash. _

“Alright, we climb. Wait for me to start, Keith.” As the two circled around to the southern wall, Shiro updated his team on the situation and his plan.  _ Lance, I need better hearing _ . Shiro winced as the third demon crowded into his skull. His ears stretched out to resemble Nyma's pointed ones. He took a moment to tune out the sound of his own heartbeat, suddenly thunderingly loud. Motioning to Keith, Shiro set hardened fingers into the brick work. The left hand fingertips sunk in slightly, courtesy of Hunk. He extended the claws of the right, which pierced the masonry almost as deep. Listening all the while, trusting Keith to copy him, Shiro scaled the wall.

They stopped on either side of a window. Even with Lance's augmentation, Shiro heard nothing.  _ Hunk, locations?  _ His left hand buzzed softly. Dragging the Balmeran to the front of his mind, Shiro shared his senses. He suddenly felt the resonances hinting at four standing figures. Memorizing their positions, he replaced Hunk with Pidge and drew his sidearm.  _ You can make a .45 go through without deflecting right? _

_ Ugh, empowered rounds and perfect trajectory? You're lucky I like you. Just find a weak spot.  _ The vines covering his hand grew around the gun. Shiro found a small gap in the masonry. Glancing at Keith to make sure the demon was ready, he practiced aiming at the four sentries. He breathed slowly and channeled Pidge all the quintessence they needed.

He fired four times and heard a crash of glass as Keith broke into the room. Shiro followed as quickly as he could, snarls of rage and sounds of violence giving him speed.

Shiro found his demon crouched over a sentry, that same purple energy burning through the construct’s metal chest. Two others seemed destroyed by Shiro's opening salvo. The last was standing behind Keith with a glowing palm reaching out. Forgetting his gun in panic, Shiro rushed the figure and tackled it to the ground. Without thinking, Shiro raised his right hand and swung it down. His fist burst with Galran violet light as it sheared through his target's face. The sentry’s armored features offered no resistance as nearly half its head disappeared. As the danger passed, the inexplicable power drained out of his hand.

Shiro rose on unsteady feet to find Keith staring at him, eyes a solid, lambent yellow. The demon licked his fangs as he took in the destruction his master had wrought.

_ I'm might have some competition tonight.  _ Lance's non sequitur dragged Shiro back to the present. He staggered over the fifth person Hunk had found. She was in her mid twenties, about Shiro’s age. The woman didn't seem aware of reality, eyes blankly open. She muttered to herself almost too quietly for Shiro to hear. “don’tletherindon’tletherindon’tletherin.” The chant continued until her lungs emptied in a wheezing gasp.

“From her clothing's condition, I think she's from the most recent attack. Doesn't look like the possession has taken hold yet.” Galra changed their hosts the most severely. They didn't intend to leave, so they made significant, permanent alterations. The first ones to arrive and find victims, like Haxus, looked more like Keith than their original selves. He hoisted the woman over his shoulder. “We have to get her out. She'll slow me down and block my vision so you  _ have  _ stay aware. There's no telling if they alerted other Galra before they were banished.” Keith remained crouched over the sentry he’d destroyed. “Hey, wake up! We have to move!” Finally, the Galra responded. He shook his head before leading Shiro out of the room.

Despite his worries, their exit was uneventful. The squad surrounded him as they jogged back to the checkpoint using a different route. After getting the girl to Ryner and their team, the rest of the morning was consumed with paperwork. Beyond what had built up during his leave, the rescue required extensive documentation. Keith remained in his periphery while at the outpost. He seemed oddly subdued after the exciting first day. Shiro thought that a Reaver would enjoy a fight more.

Keith’s uneasiness only increased when Commander Iverson summoned them to be debriefed. Iverson’s grudging praise did nothing to help. After being dismissed for the day, Keith remained taciturn during the drive home. “Anything bothering you, Keith?” asked Shiro levelly.

The demon didn’t look over. “Beyond being chained to this plane by a Summoner with suicidally large hero complex?”

Shiro also kept his eyes forward. “That was well done. Rouse guilt over summoning and binding you, then trick me into defending the rescue today.” Now, Shiro turned to Keith. “It didn’t work. Talk”

The demon hissed in displeasure. “Today was... confusing. Beside seeing other humans for the first time, being out in the world, fighting other Galra.” Keith chewed on his next words before spitting them out. “My back was turned. The last sentry could have killed me. You stopped it. Why?” His gaze bore into Shiro with a mix of anger and confusion.

“You’re surprised that I saved you?” asked Shiro incredulously.

“Of course I am! You summoned me to regain your arm. You have that now. I’m Galra, a risk, your enemy! You should hate me like the others, if not more than them!” His claws dug into the car door. “It was a perfect opportunity to end the contract.”

“By letting you die!” Shiro pulled off the road, not trusting himself to drive. “That’s, I couldn’t let that happen. I had doubts at the beginning, it’s true. But I don’t hate you. It’s only been days, but I thought you’d realize that, at least.”

“What do you meant, ‘at least,’” demanded Keith.

“I’m not the one that put up a barrier. You’ve sensed what I felt. I’m not sure what we are, but it’s not motivated by hate.”

“Fuck, this world is insane.” Keith twisted in his seat and disappeared into the back of the SUV. They didn’t speak before Shiro pulled into the garage and the demon vanished into the house.

For the rest of the day, he kept himself busy with the housework that had gone undone after his injury. Shiro had just stepped out of the shower and eyed his bed when Lance reappeared.

_ Nope! It’s eight o’clock and we’re heading out tonight. _

Shiro sighed. He’d forgotten all the times the Mer had used his phone over the day.  _ Alright, where are we going? _

_ You’ll find no spoilers here. Address is already in your GPS. _

Listening for anymore directions, Shiro dressed casually. When Lance didn’t object, he trudged downstairs. Shiro shouted into the house that he was leaving. If Keith wanted distance, he could have it.

The address lead Shiro to a small apartment complex. He found the correct door and knocked. It opened sooner than he expected. “Hey. Shiro, right? I’m Keith,” greeted a young Korean guy. Shiro’s hearing distorted around the name, letting him know that Lance was meddling. The man smiled and opened the door wider. “C’mon, I’ve been thinking of you all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone have a better name than "Mer" for Lance's species of demon? That's the term used by the wiki for the mermaid aliens. I've though about nymph, naiad, etc but those are all gendered...
> 
> Please leave a comment!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro pays Lance's Price, not that it's an arduous transaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Argh. So this was kind of hard to write, despite being 99% porn. Trying to split up one set of pronouns, he/him/his, in a gay threesome is never fun.
> 
> Nearly every time the names 'Keith' and 'Lance' are used in this chapter, I'm referring to the couple Shiro spends the night with. Demon Lance is present but referred to vaguely, without a name. Galra Keith is only mentioned near the very end.

Dazed, Shiro stepped into the apartment. It was rather worn and not very clean, what he'd expect of a college-aged guy. “I'm glad to see you match your pics,” smiled ‘Keith.’ He gave Shiro an entirely unsubtle look-over.

“Thanks, I guess? I never understood the point of using someone else’s or old photos.”

Keith shrugged. “You’d be surprised how often it happens. ‘Course, the ones that think they can skate by on personality have absolutely none to speak of.” He cornered Shiro and dropped to his knees. “Let's see just how honest you were.” 

He deftly opened Shiro's pants. The taller man groaned as a wet heat engulfed his cock. Keith worked the soft length with his right hand and gripped Shiro's ass with the other to keep him still. When his target proved he wouldn’t move away, Keith’s left slipped under Shiro's shirt and moved up his abs. Soon, he let out his own moan as the dick in his mouth grew, forcing him back from Shiro's crotch. Keith pulled off and pumped at him with a fist. “God  _ damn _ ,” he whispered with something abject in his voice. “That wasn’t too much, was it? You said you liked to be surprised.”

Shiro carded through Keith’s hair. “No complaints so far.”

Shaking his head to clear it, Keith rose and turned away. Shiro awkwardly closed his fly over his hard cock. “C’mon, my boyfriend's waiting.”

_ What the hell have you gotten me into?  _ The demon in his head chuckled but didn't answer. He had suffused Shiro's body fully, reaching to feel everything his host did.

Following his Grindr through the dim apartment led Shiro to the bedroom. “What the hell took so- Wait, I know what happened. You did your little ‘meet-and-greet’ thing, right?” A smirking Latino rolled over to watch them enter. He was clad only in bright blue underwear and had been idly surfing porn on a small laptop before being interrupted.

And, his features looked remarkably identical to the ones that overshadowed Shiro's whenever his trickster demon manifested. The Summoner couldn't tell if his Rider had found an improbably similar couple if he was manipulating Shiro's perceptions. Likely a mix of both.

The presence of some meddling was confirmed when Keith spoke his partner's name. “Shut up, Lance. I was just making sure he didn’t catfish us.” Matching appearances and names? That was a long step passed credulity.

“Well, with your tastes and  _ that  _ thing,” he lazily pointed a finger to the large bulge at Shiro's crotch, “I guess he didn’t, you fucking size queen,” Their special guest star blushed. “Anyway, Keith is the one that set tonight up. What're you into?”

_ Shit. What else did he tell them?  _ Again, the spirit stayed silent. Shiro fought to keep his face neutral as a foreign, Cheshire grin tugged at his lips. “The usual things, not looking for anything crazy tonight. I'm versatile, use condoms,” listed Shiro, going through the boilerplate negotiations with new partners.

“We're both on PrEP, and got tested last month,” offered Lance hopefully.

Shiro quickly shot that down. “Sorry, no. I don't bareback. But I'm not crazy, you don't have to use them with each other.” He wasn't going to spend his time with guys that would try to make him change his mind in the moment. Too many promising nights were ruined that way.

Luckily the two boyfriends just shrugged. “Fine by us,” said Lance. He cast some vanilla porn to the room’s TV and set the volume low. “We've got some if you don't.” He pulled a box out of a nightstand.

“Thanks, but I brought my own. Those don't fit well.” Shiro nodded at their brand of condoms.

“I'll bet,” said Keith, glancing toward Shiro's tented pants. He stripped off his clothes without a hint of self-consciousness and dropped beside Lance.

“You guys have any rules I should know? How do you want to start?” Shiro hated how awkwardly things could start with new couples.

“Nah, we're pretty laid back. Just stop doing whatever if we tell you. As for what's next...” Lance smiled and moved his legs apart. “Well, one of us already went down on you.”

_ Figures he's the dominant one.  _ Shiro pulled off his shirt and settled into the bed. He palmed the cock before him through the tight briefs. Lance was already hard with his length pointing toward his hip. Pulling the underwear down to Lance's knees made his dick slap against his waist with a heavy sound. The Latino kicked the garment off entirely and flashed another arrogant smirk.

Shiro mused that he had a reason to be proud, even though Lance didn't quite compare to himself. If Keith hadn't shared anything, he might even think he was the larger. Letting him keep his sense of superiority a little longer, Shiro kissed the tip of his cut cock. He licked away a bead of pre-come and wrapped his lips behind the flared crown. Shiro glanced up, expecting to see Lance react when he took him deep. Instead, he saw the boyfriends locking lips gently. The two were consumed with each other, aside from Keith rutting his cock against Shiro's right arm. They acted like the older man wasn't even present.

As he looked up, his vision blurred. Lance's eyes darkened to pools of black and his skin became covered in whorling, glowing blue patterns. Lambent yellow light flashed through Keith's closed eyes and purple fur spread across his figure. The two cocks, one thrusting into his mouth and one spreading pre-come across his forearm,  _ changed.  _ They seemed to  _ writhe _ . One moved to test his gag reflex and the other coiled around his hand.  _ C’mon, let go, enjoy it. No one’s watching, no one’s judging.  _ The voice susurrated in his mind but wasn’t his own. Shiro fell into the sensation wholly, letting instinct take over. The presence centered in his skull waxed larger, distorting any firm delineation between it and Shiro.

“Damn, he's really getting into it,” said Keith. Shiro realized that he'd lost some time. He snapped out of the hallucination and tried to take his bearings. Swallowing revealed Lance's cock pressing far into his throat. As well what he suspected was some light bruising from the deepthroating.

Wiping away the spit and pre-come that covered his chin, Shiro replied. “Sorry.”

“Don't be,” panted Lance. His flushed cheeks showed how close he'd come. “Why don't, why don't you let us return the favor while you get Keith ready?”

Shiro was pulled up to between the other guys. Lance shifted down while Keith straddled his chest, facing away from Shiro. He felt his pants opened and heard a soft exclamation from the Latino. As he groped Keith's ass two tongues laved at his cock.  _ Hmm, this won't take much effort.  _ Just pulling at Keith’s ass to expose his pink hole caused it to gape sightly. Shiro quickly filled that space with his tongue. Keith proved to be a noisy bottom, moaning wantonly around Shiro.

He licked the smaller guy open, while Lance shifted his legs apart to give Shiro the same service. The officer hiked his hips so Lance would have better access and forced his cock deeper into Keith's mouth. All three men groaned, two in pleasure and one in submission. “Lance, baby, I'm ready. I, I need it.” Keith’s wet fist stroked Shiro's cock skillfully, making him buck at the rougher friction.

Lance dug around for Shiro's pants, pulling out a condom and tossing it to him. “You heard him,” he said. Keith crawled off so Shiro could put it on. The bottom splayed himself as he worked some lube into his hole. He buried his head in his arms with his ass in the air. Shiro paused when the tip of his cock nudged a millimeter into Keith. Whatever his signs of being a power bottom, he was so slight, so small. Shiro couldn't believe he would fit into the younger man.

Those concerns were banished in a rush of ecstasy by two events. First, Keith pushed back, stretching the tight muscle of his rim over Shiro's crown. Second, something  _ else  _ animated his left arm, yanking Keith's hips back to slam into Shiro's with a hard slap. The bottom arched his back up and cried out, wrecked by the nearly foot long cock impaling him.

“Make him scream again,” whispered Lance. Shiro didn't know which one. He withdrew slowly, feeling Keith spasm around him from overstimulation. Keith sobbed as Shiro slipped out. His hole stayed open, unable to close. Lance pushed Shiro aside and shoved his face into Keith's ass. Again, his arm moved without his control. It gripped Lance's hair and drove him deeper into Keith. The lewd sounds of Lance’s tongue was only matched by Keith’s breathy cursing. A minute later Shiro dragged him away to make room for his throbbing cock. He didn't waste any time, pausing only long enough to line up before jackknifing forward. The officer knew he was out of control, under the influence of something. But he didn’t care.

Keith let his face grind into the sheets as Shiro set a brutal pace. He let out a small “ _ yes!”  _ each time Shiro stopped to grind in deeper. The top stuttered for a moment as lubed fingers brushed his own hole. Shiro's own back stroke worked them in. Just as he got his rhythm back the digits were replaced by Lance's cock. Shiro briefly moved a hand back to feel for a condom. When he confirmed it, he pulled Keith flush against his chest. The bottom desperately moved his hips against Shiro, not understanding why they stopped.

“I want him to feel this through you,” growled Lance, covering the Summoner's mouth with a hand. He copied Shiro's roughness. The Latino fucked him harshly, moving in quick, short thrusts. Indeed, Keith continued to cry out as Lance jostled Shiro's cock deep inside him. The thick length was a constant presence against his prostate, waxing and waning with Lance’s movements.

His senses were warped again. The two men whose real names he didn’t even know became his demons. The hand across his face grew short claws and glowed with cerulean tattoos. Keith’s back sprouted soft purple fur as his ears transformed into the fluffy things that Shiro adored. Lance’s cock changed; it grew, moved, and pressed in expected directions. He closed his eyes at the alien, sensuous undulation.

Lance pulled out until only his head remained in Shiro. When he didn’t react quickly enough, Lance tugged him back. Shiro clenched his teeth as he was nearly overwhelmed. The sensation of one cock pressing into him while his own dragged out of a tight hole almost made him climax. Shiro steeled himself and rocked forward. His gasp was met by Keith’s. He only managed to fuck himself between them for a few minutes before coming with a half-strangled shout. Keith inhaled sharply as Shiro’s right hand grasped his shoulder, claws pricking at the Asian’s skin. The creature in his mind thrummed with power, feasting on the energy created by sex, by Shiro offering up his Price. It took all the Summoner's concentration to keep the demon from greedily feeding off the others.

Lance rutted forward, forcing the three of them flush against each other again. Keith’s arm moved furiously as he jerked his cock chasing his orgasm. Lance humped into Shiro with tiny thrusts that milked Shiro’s prostate. By the time the Summoner had come down, the other two started their own climaxes. Keith further tightened down around Shiro while Lance’s cock pulsed inside him.

The three slowly collapsed into the pillows, the tops slipping out as they fell. Shiro blinked as the sated demon receded, his head finally clearing. Keith fidgeted in discomfort for a moment before rolling over Shiro to his boyfriend. He settled on top of Lance and tore away the condom. In a flash, Keith slid down onto his cock. Only once he was full again did he relax, resting on Lance’s chest. The Latino noticed Shiro’s bemused expression. “It’s just a thing he does. Doesn’t like to spend his afterglow empty,” he shrugged. “Not that it feels like I’m taking up much space in there right now,” Lance added sheepishly.

Keith snuggled further into his boyfriend’s arms. “Shush, you’re perfect,” he answered.

Shiro stood and dropped his condom into a nearby trash can. He winced as he did so, only half in affectation. “Don't sell yourself short. He's not the only one who’ll have trouble walking tomorrow.

Lance regained some of his earlier smugness. “You’re free to spend the night.” He patted at the king sized bed, which dominated the small room.

Dressing languidly, Shiro shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got work tomorrow and pets to take care of.” He was about to make his exit when Keith reached up to pull him down. Both boyfriends pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks for the fun. You’re welcome back anytime,” said Keith.

Shiro smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His demon reared back up to the forefront of his mind. “Maybe I’ll bring a friend next time,” the creature made him say.

Lance raised his eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all, coming from you.” He flicked something to Shiro. It was his Garrison ID, including his status as a Summoner. “Sorry,” said Lance with zero contrition. “Old habit, and I wanted to make sure you were who you said.”

The Mer demon shivered in pleasure. Shiro felt his features become overshadowed for a moment. “Good to know,” he said with a grin showing too many sharp, alien teeth. The officer shook the spirit away and left before things could escalate. Had to keep some of his Riders on a short leash.

Shiro didn’t see his Keith when he returned to the house. All he felt were eyes on his back as he got ready for his second shower of the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the last couple dry chapters. We'll get some plot progression next.
> 
> Oh! I'm so goddamn happy Season 7 added a bunch of new characters! I was really feeling hamstrung by making so many people into demons. There's a reason the Garrison scenes had so few named characters. Seriously, who the hell was left? Pidge and Matt's dad?
> 
> On a related note, any opinion on retconning Adam as Shiro's ex? It wouldn't involve much work as Matt hasn't gotten any detailed descriptions in this work. I'm on the fence about it, especially considering how little screen time Adam got. On the other hand, it would free up Matt for something else. Or the just removing the dependency between Matt being human while Pidge is a demon...
> 
> Please leave a comment, even if it's only to point out a typo or inconsistency!


	8. Chapter 8

Snoring filled Shiro's bedroom. If he let his eyes close for a moment too long, the rumbling would lull him to sleep. His choice of reading material was a poor one, given his current mood. Shiro didn't usually pick up such maudlin novels, but Matt had revisited A Single Man or some other book by Christopher Isherwood at least once a year. This dog-eared copy had been left behind, so Shiro tried to do it justice. He considered tossing the book away every other chapter; the protagonist's world was too different from, and yet too similar to, his own. Why couldn't George talk to _anyone_ about his late lover? What on Earth was he pursuing with his student Kenny?

The mice covered every available square inch of the bed in a tangle of awkward limbs. They were the source of the snoring, an almost sub-audible reverberation. One of them stretched, pressing hard against Shiro's side. Another unsteadily jerked his legs as he ran through a dream. The dogs had avoided Shiro's bedroom since Keith had arrived, but it seemed they were determined to reclaim their territory. All at once the Great Danes stilled, pricking their ears toward the open door.

“What are you doing?” The demon wasn't visible, but Keith must have been just outside the bedroom.

The dogs’ warning alone kept Shiro from jumping. “I'm reading,” he responded, laconically turning a page. His true focus was on the hallway. It was mid-afternoon; the house should have been bright enough to see the familiar clearly.

But Keith stayed out of sight. “No, you aren't.” He could have been stating that the sky was blue from the determination in his voice. “I've seen you read. Your reports, your newspapers, your phone. This feels different.”

“Feels different how?” Shiro asked. He knew that Keith could sense some of his emotions, and that he would be able to perceive the reverse if Keith allowed it. Shiro was curious how transparent he could be when his thoughts were unguarded.

The Summoner heard a frustrated growl from the shadows. “Overwhelmed. Distraught. But satisfied as well. Like a weapon quenched after the forge." More irritated sounds. " I lack the words.” Finally Shiro found the demon, peeking around the hallway corner, revealed only by his eyes flashing yellow. “You force these melancholic feelings upon yourself. Why?”

Shiro let his head fall back into the pillows. “Hmm. I’ll start by saying that I usually don’t. Histories were always my preference. Even then, the closest I would come to fiction were dramatized biographies. My ex forgot this,” Shiro rambled, flapping the paperback in one hand. He struggled to articulate why he picked up the book. Failing that, Shiro fished for answers about himself he didn’t know. “If you’ve been snooping on me, you know there are highpoints to reading things like this.”

Keith stood and moved into the bedroom. He still wore his red jacket but had abandoned the jeans. “You drink bitter bile to make coffee sweet. That little woodland sprite bandaging your psyche must be exhausted.” He kept a wary eye on the pack of dogs as he crept forward another foot.

“You disapprove? I was actually planning on asking Matt to borrow the rest of his Isherwood collection.” Shiro casually raised the novel to block his familiar from view.

“More lies,” the demon hissed. “You neither had nor have any intention.” Keith skirted the mice as best he could as he snatched the book from Shiro’s hands. “You reveal more than you intended. If this rag is the dross of a failed mating, then you and Ryner’s host were intimate.”

Shiro leaned back up to retrieve his novel. For an instant he luxuriated in the effortless support his restored arm provided. “Yes, and? I never hid that.” Perhaps it was the lingering taste of George’s ennui or dissatisfaction with how things ended with Matt, but either way Shiro’s hackles were up.

“You did, by omission!” Keith’s fur began to stand on end, as he took an agitated step forward.

“Oh, fuck you! Demons lie by omission with every other breath.” Shiro didn’t realize how hard he’d clenched his fists until his right glowed an angry violet shade. Before he could react, one of the mice swiped a paw at his empowered hand. Memories of the sentry he'd destroyed flashed before his mind's eye. However, the dog merely batted his hand open, and the energy dissipated.

Keith shuddered. “I hate those things.” He took a measured step back.

“Yeah, well. They were here first,” muttered Shiro. The Summoner eyed his pets with no small amount of trepidation. His afternoon calm ruined, Shiro tossed the book onto his nightstand. “I've got errands to run. Do you want to stay here or come with?” This home was the only place Keith's contract allowed him to stay outside of Shiro's presence for any length of time. Already he looked forward to the first opportunity for revision; he regretted not adding a clause to define other safe areas. Some days he wished he could leave Keith at the Garrison when they weren't working.

 _C'mon Shiro, you don't want that._ As usual, Pidge made a quiet entrance.

Shiro sighed. _No, but sometimes I can’t shake the thought._ He rolled off the bed and made a largely vain attempt at brushing off the dog hair that covered his clothes. As he slipped passed Keith, he quirked an eyebrow.

The demon's gaze flicked to the hounds that had never really stopped watching him. “I'll follow,” he said quickly.

“Good, put some pants on,” replied Shiro over his shoulder. He grabbed a few grocery bags as he waited to lead Keith to the garage. “Even with the jacket, you could cause a panic in the wrong place. Imagine the pandemonium if I brought you to a Whole Foods.” The joke fell flat. “Luckily there are places near Kerberos that aren't quarantined and see demons often enough.”

Keith skirted the circle of black iron and flashing silver embedded in the kitchen floor. As was his habit, he dragged a claw across the forbiddance. “And what urgent quests are we pursuing today? Hopefully not more damsels in distress.”

“Your English in improving. It's less archaic, you're using contractions and idioms.” He paused a bit, trying to bait Keith into responding. When no rejoinder seemed forthcoming, Shiro gave up. “Nothing special, just an oil change and some groceries.” Keith easily climbed into the SUV. He plucked unhappily at the seatbelt but buckled in regardless.

They remained silent while Shiro drove to their first destination. It wasn't his preferred garage, but it was within the grey area around Kerberos. He pulled the car around to the work area and walked into the office. Keith hung back near the door. Shiro frowned at the room. It was gloomier than he remembered. Shadows filled the corners and dust floated through weak beams of sunlight. Few of the signs or technical diagrams on the wall hung straight. Bits of trash littered the floor.

Shiro rung the service bell. “Hello, I'd like an-shit!” The Summoner's hand flew to the knife he wasn't wearing.

“Shirogane, my dear friend!” exclaimed Rolo. His golden tooth glinted as he smiled. “What can this humble mechanic?” He carelessly dropped an oily cloth to the floor, helping explain all the other detritus.

After calming his racing heart, Shiro relaxed incrementally. Nyma liked to make an entrance, so Shiro assumed the succubus wasn’t present. “Y-your host owns this place?” He studied the demon’s new face, noticing the few changes from Rolo’s previous Vessel.

Rolo drummed his four hands on the counter. “Right as usual! Part of the contract, I maintain his business. Since you were not expecting me, I assume you aren’t after my more... interesting services?”

“No. While here, you're an agent on your Vessel's behalf?” Whatever tricks Rolo liked to play or payments he demanded, he would be bound to conduct this business in the same manner as his host. If the demon wanted to bargain on his usual terms, Shiro would rather change the damn oil himself.

“To my chagrin, I stand here as his proxy. It sounded novel, grifting people in such a meager setting.” The Unilu demon took on a mournful expression. “I thought I'd get to barter! None of these standard contracts or legal tender.” He shuddered melodramatically at the mention of hard currency.

“Look on the bright side, it means you get my business today. Oil change, no synthetics or up-sales please.” Shiro kept his smile polite as he requested the most boring available service.

Rolo mounted a valiant effort and lifted a finger. “Ah, but what if our exhaustive five-point inspection finds something needing urgent attention?”

Shiro sat in one of the rather shabby chairs in the waiting area. “I'll make a decision then. Now please, proceed. Take too long, and I might wonder if the Garrison knows that you’ve left Kerberos.”

“Oh, Shiro, I thought we were friends.” The demon sighed. “Very well, you'll see how quickly these four hands can work.” Rolo retreated into the garage.

“I am pleased to witness that I am not the only one with an onerous contract.” Keith inspected the available seats and deigned to stand.

Pidge snickered in Shiro's head, likely at Keith's abruptly formal diction. “Rolo still gets to possess that man for months. Who knows if he has a family. The demon’s getting the better end of the deal.”

Shiro pulled out his phone as Keith peered through the window. “Where are all these demons you spoke of?” asked Keith. Most of the figures he saw appeared human, going about their mortal lives.

“Rolo and Nyma are more ostentatious than most. It helps their usual trade to be visible; they have to advertise to normals.” Shiro scrolled through his news feed. “Demons that stray further from Kerberos try to be more subtle. ‘No point disturbing the cattle’ is the typical justification.” He paused his browsing at a story mentioning Keith. “I’m sure there are demons still on the street. This close to Kerberos I always check for danger. Saw at least five auras bright enough to signal possession. You didn't see any?” Shiro trailed off as he read.

The article... wasn’t great. The Garrison PR flack didn’t do a good job spinning Keith’s sudden appearance. Desperate to dispel any implication of incompetence, they tried to claim that the Galra’s summoning was a wholly intentional experiment in binding incarnate fighters for the Garrison. This explanation raised too many unanswerable questions. Why not experiment with a safer species of demon for the first corporeal summoning? Didn't Garrison policy ban Galran Riders? Were more incarnate demons planned?

Keith grunted and leaned against the windowsill. “I am a worse seer than even you, and lack the Sight. It would take more arduous methods to find my hidden brethren.”

Distracted from his reading, Shiro glared at Keith. His petty anger was slightly blunted by the vision of his familiar. The demon had cat-like instincts for finding both the best lighting and stance to position himself. Keith stood in one of the hazy shafts of sunlight. He splayed a long leg out behind him, extending the graceful curve of his back all the way down from his thrown-back shoulders. Shiro blinked away the distraction. “What did you _just_ say about lies of omission,” he demanded.

Keith glanced at Shiro before returning to the street. “No question, no lie.”

The Summoner's fists clenched again. “Fine, _how_ would you search those people for demons?” spat Shiro.

“I cannot tell you. A prior geas forbids it.” Keith turned fully to his Summoner when Shiro drew breath to respond. “However, I can _show_ you. If you order it.”

 _Boss, I don’t think this is a good idea._ Pidge sounded nervous, but not fearful. Shiro ignored them. He wanted answers.

“While abiding by all provisions of your contract, including those against physical and psychological harm to any humans without explicit direction, demonstrate your method of finding non-manifesting demons. This order in no way permits detriment to humans or demons. If malfeasance is a necessity of your demonstration, you are to stand down.” Shiro rattled off the order, the legalese drilled into him by the Garrison.

Keith tilted his head as he considered. “Very well, no harm. Watch closely,” he said concisely. With that, the demon stepped back into a shadow and vanished.

Shiro surged to his feet. He clutched at the bond connecting him to his familiar. It was intact, but attenuated. As if it was no longer a direct connection but a string passing through a keyhole. _Pidge, what did he do?!_

 _I can’t tell you either. He's not the only one with a geas!_ The Olkari sounded exasperated at Shiro’s request, or his lack of foresight. They grunted with psychic pain before continuing. _Just, don't worry._ The demon twisted as their indirect answer activated the binding.

The Summoner filled his voice with gathered fragments of the Galra’s Name. “Keith, return! You cannot leave this room!” Nothing happened. He didn’t feel any aftershocks of pain from the link, so Keith somehow abided by the command. In desperation, he opened his Third Eye. The glare of swirling, oversaturated auras briefly made Shiro nauseous before he acclimated.

There, an inch in front of Shiro, stood the column of smoke he’d first seen weeks ago. The same vague impression of a face, solid yellow eyes. The Summoner swiped his left hand through the pillar, passing through the translucent form.

He stepped back, and saw a luminescent cord emanating from his chest. It arched through the shadow in the corner and back out to Keith. Instinctively, Shiro tugged it with his right hand. Keith lurched half a foot backwards, to the corner. The Summoner set his feet and hauled. The demon slid back to the line’s vertex and flickered, becoming more substantial.

Shiro concentrated to close his Third Eye. Once the pastels that always came with the Sight cleared, he saw Keith panting in the corner. “What the hell was that?” Shiro asked, bewildered.

Keith dropped to a crouch, supporting himself with one hand. “Told you. Cannot say. Geas.” He grinned at the refusal. After regathering his wind, he stood. “There are thirteen demons on the street. You missed a few.” Satisfied, Keith returned to people-watching.

 _Before you ask, I’ll say the same. Can’t tell, prior contract._ Pidge’s voice was more acutely anxious, despite the... event being in the past.

Shiro’s next question was interrupted by Rolo’s return. “All finished! Though you'll have to pay for an extra quart of oil.” He dithered with some paperwork. “Total comes to... one of your kidneys,” Rolo smiled. At Shiro’s glare his face soured. “Or $35.99.”

After paying the demonic mechanic, Shiro and Keith climbed into the SUV. The human considered dropping the rest of his errands to just go home. But then Hunk wouldn't get to try a new recipe, which would make the Balmeran sulk for days. Shiro wouldn't be able to honor his Price, and would likely run out of credit at the worst moment. The Summoner sighed. Better to stay on top of things.

He pulled up outside a small health food store. Like the garage, Shiro didn't normally shop here. Too many crystals and displays making dubious health claims. Organic garlic wouldn't prevent possession and the “raw” local water probably contained giardia. He fervently hoped the homeopathic tincture of demon blood was properly diluted down to nothing by the snake oil's standards. All in all, the shop advertised enough woo to make Shiro's eye spasm. However, Hunk enjoyed the eclectic collection of unusual ingredients and Keith wouldn't be entirely out of place.

The Summoner realized this was the first time that Keith joined him shopping. “Feel free to toss something in the cart if you want it.” Shiro wandered the aisles, grabbing his staples and waiting for a tug on his consciousness telling him that Hunk wanted an item.

Keith trailed behind Shiro. The Galra returned a few shocked looks from other shoppers with unveiled contempt. “This is how you gather food, necessities?” He dropped to his haunches to inspect the mechanism spraying mist over the produce section.

“Ye-es,” Shiro answered hesitantly, thrown by the question. How many millennia old were the first marketplaces? “When was the last time you crossed the Veil?”

The demon flinched as drops of water dampened his fur. He paused a moment before answering. “I was last summoned three weeks ago.”

Shiro dug the heel of his palm into his temple to massage away an incipient headache. “And before that?”

Keith briefly met Shiro’s eyes. “I never before took a contract or possessed a Vessel.”

“What?” That contradicted everything the Garrison believed about demons. They needed to siphon power from the living. “How did you feed? Where did you get quintessence?”

Keith turned that contemptuous look onto Shiro. “Other demons, of course.”

Shiro thought to ask Pidge for confirmation, but he was alone in his own head for once. “H-how?”

“Painfully, for the defeated.” His familiar wandered ahead a few meters. Not far enough to strain their contract, but sufficient to make any conversation awkwardly loud.

Shiro finished his shopping without attempting to resurrect the topic. He dropped back into autopilot for the drive home. Shiro might have drifted in that fugue for the rest of the day had a numbing burst of static not jolted him from his reverie. The officer found himself back in his kitchen, rubbing his tingling right arm.

In his distraction, he'd wandered too close to the permanent circle installed in the floor. Shiro blinked and tried to take his bearings.

Keith hadn’t slipped away as he usually did. The Galra lingered by the doorway to the garage. He watched Shiro's every move with more attention than he'd paid to the demons outside the mechanic's shop. The Summoner wrote off the behavior as vague payback for all the questions he'd asked that day. He finished packing away his purchases.

As he reached for a high cabinet to store the spices Hunk had selected, a pair of arms slid up his torso to grope his chest. “Keith?!” exclaimed Shiro.

“Quiet. I prefer you silent,” said Keith. A shiver cascaded down Shiro’s back at the whispered breath against his neck.  The demon’s grip became iron as Keith twisted Shiro around and lifted him up to sit on the counter. He shoved his way between Shiro’s thighs.

“Keith, I-” started Shiro, only to be cut off.

“Haven’t I earned this?” demanded Keith. He pressed a hand over Shiro’s mouth. “It has been days. Let me do this as I please.” The Summoner didn’t respond as his fly was deftly opened. Keith was right; nearly a week had passed since their last... coupling. This was the longest span of time that Shiro’s familiar had gone without. Shiro desperately hoped that Keith was driven by more than his base hunger for quintessence. That the demon missed their closeness just as much as Shiro did. The plaintive thought made Shiro harden in spite of himself.

But this wasn’t the first time that Shiro had deluded himself about his lover’s motivations. With Matt, even Adam, he had built fantastical futures without any foundation. Pretended that the relationship was sound, that any troubles were transient. He couldn’t do the same with Keith. Shiro reached down to grip the Galra's wrist, stilling his rough strokes. “Wait, Keith, you don't need to keep doing this,” said Shiro.

The demon bared his fangs, as if anticipating Shiro's argument.

The officer continued regardless. “Tell me your Price, and this can stop. I Pay the others easily en-” Before Shiro finished, Keith tightened his fist. Shiro's next words choked off into a pained grunt.

“ _No_ ,” Keith answered. He kneaded the tip of his thumb into Shiro's frenulum, edging his master. “You _don't_ Pay any demon easily and I _won't_ give my Price.” Keith redoubled his strokes. “This is safe, this is sufficient.”

They weren't the softly spoken words of requited affection that Shiro wanted. But the demon knew how to play him. The orgasm was mediocre, as was the drain on his quintessence. By the time his vision cleared, Keith had disappeared.

Shiro sighed and reached over the sink to tear free a paper towel. He slipped off the counter and wiped up the streaks of come that Keith had aimed across the floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really didn't intend to let this story sit for so long! On the plus side, I've got rough drafts for the next 3 chapters! Hopefully those will go out in an appropriate amount of time...
> 
> Please leave a comment, even if it's just to point out a typo or plot hole. With this story getting longer, I'm especially fearful of the latter.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a lovely illustration by EAter. Thanks again for this!
> 
> https://34t3r.tumblr.com/post/174780904511/like-what-you-see-pervert-shall-my-first-meal


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